The Real World
by Cappygal116
Summary: No Harry, it's Mum, the woman said gently. Mum? Harry asked, bewildered. His mother couldn't be here it just wasn't possible. But then, here she was, sitting on his bed. How could that be?
1. Chapter 1

There was a low murmuring in the room. Harry heard a few different voices. He didn't recognize some of them, but he knew some sounded familiar. Harry tried to separate the different voices, but it made his head spin, so he soon stopped. They sounded worried about him, but he really didn't want to open his eyes. Light was glaring through his eyelids, and his head was pounding. He felt like he had just been run over by a hippogriff, not a pleasant feeling. He moaned and rolled over onto his side, trying to block the light.

"Albus! He's awake!" a woman's voice said happily. Harry felt someone sitting down on the edge of his bed. A cool hand brushed his hair out of his face, caressing his cheek gently. "Harry, honey, wake up. It's time to go home," the woman said kindly.

Reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes, blinking quickly so that his eyes could adjust to the light. He reached a fist up to rub the gunk out of his eyes, but he felt every muscle in his arm scream in protest. He tried to open his mouth to ask what happened, but his throat was too dry for speech. He felt a goblet pushed into his hand.

"Have some water, sweetie," the woman said, helping Harry to take a large drink of the cool water. The woman then took the goblet from Harry and put his glasses on for him. Harry looked to the woman and his mouth went dry again.

"Ginny?" he asked, confused. She never called him sweetie or honey, nor did she have green eyes. His mind was still foggy, and he couldn't think clearly.

"No Harry, it's Mum," the woman said gently.

"Mum?" Harry asked, bewildered. His mother couldn't be here; it just wasn't possible. But then, here she was, sitting on his bed. How could that be?

"That's right. You had a nasty fall. We've been worried sick about you," she said quietly. Harry saw tears fill her eyes as she looked at Harry, obviously relieved that he was alive.

Harry tore his eyes away from his mother and looked around the room. Albus Dumbledore was standing to the back. His face had more lines on it than Harry remembered – he looked tired. Harry then looked at the three men standing behind Lily. He recognized one as Remus, and was pleased to see that he looked the same as always. Remus offered Harry a weak smile; he had obviously been very worried too. Harry then looked at Sirius. Sirius smiled roguishly and gave the boy a wink. Harry stared at his godfather. He was supposed to be dead, too. Harry stared at Sirius for a minute, trying to imagine Sirius as being alive again. Harry was almost reluctant to look at the third man. He knew who it was, yet he still wasn't sure if he wanted to see a face remarkably similar to his own. Harry looked at the third man, his father.

"Dad," he whispered, as if telling himself that he was looking at his father, and not a mirror. James smiled widely.

"That's my boy," James said proudly.

"Knew you'd come through," Sirius said confidently, though Harry could tell he had been just as worried about Harry as the others.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, looking around the room again. He recognized it as the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but he wanted to hear that from the three people in this room that were supposed to be dead, if only to hear them talk and prove their existence.

"Hogwarts. Don't you remember anything?" his mum asked sadly. Harry thought he did remember everything. He and his friends had been off finding horcruxes, and they were suddenly ambushed. Harry remembered being hit with a spell and blacking out. But then, he also remembered his parents' dying moments and watching Sirius through the veil.

Harry shook his head mutely.

"It was the last game of the Quidditch season. You had just made a spectacular catch, hanging off of your broom, speeding through the air and thereby winning the game, and one of the beaters from the other team hit a bludger toward you and knocked your hold off of the broom. You fell nearly fifty feet," James said gravely, looking to Albus for a quick confirmation. Dumbledore smiled sadly and nodded his head.

"It's a miracle you didn't die," Remus said quietly.

"I tried to slow your descent, but there were people in the way until it was too late," Dumbledore said sadly, as though he blamed himself for Harry's fall.

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked, a little frightened of the answer.

"Three months," Sirius said, all traces of his jovial attitude gone. "The three longest months of my life," he added with a sigh, glad it was over.

"We were starting to think you weren't going to wake up," James told his son, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry winced as a pain shot out from where James' hand had made contact with his shoulder. James looked mortified. "Sorry!" he said. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Harry smiled. "It's okay; I'm not made of parchment. But how about some pain relieving potion?" he suggested.

"I'll go fetch Madam Pomfrey. I suggest you see just how much he remembers from before his fall," Dumbledore said as he let himself out of the curtained cubicle.

"What's your name?" James began.

"Harry James Potter." Harry looked around the room and Remus gave him a small smile, knowing that even if Harry knew his own name, it didn't say anything for the rest of his memory.

"And who are the people standing around you?"

"James Potter, my dad, Lily Potter, my mum, Sirius Black, my godfather, and Remus Lupin," Harry said, indicating each person in turn. Everyone seemed to sigh in relief as though they were worried he'd forgotten who they were.

Harry reached up to his forehead to try and rub away the throbbing headache that was encroaching. He rubbed along the familiar scar, hoping that, as always, it was his scar that was bothering him and that it would go away shortly. He looked at his dad, waiting for the next question when he suddenly realized he had one of his own.

"How did I get this?" Harry asked, pointing at his lightning bolt-shaped scar.

"You don't remember?" whispered Lily. Harry shook his head. Lily took a shuddering breath before speaking. "When you were a year old, we invited my sister and her son over to celebrate her birthday. Her husband was out of town on business, so we decided to put our issues behind us for one night and have dinner together. We promised Petunia that there would be no magic. It was the only way to get her to come over, so we hid our wands in our bedroom. Then, while your dad and I were in the kitchen, cutting the cake, _he_ came. Dudley was upstairs taking a nap, and it was only you and Petunia in the living room. He came in and told Petunia to step aside so that he could kill you." Lily stopped for a second to take a deep breath before continuing. Her hands were shaking a little bit and her eyes were red as she began to cry. James put a hand on each of her shoulders and gave her a slight squeeze.

"Petunia told him he couldn't kill a little baby. It wasn't right. He told her he didn't want to waste his time killing a...a...a mudblood. Petunia grabbed you and hid you from him. He told her to get out of the way one more time. When she didn't, he killed her. But then, when he tried to kill you, he couldn't. James and I ran into the room after hearing Petunia's scream telling him to go away. We heard him laugh and kill her, but by the time we ran from the kitchen to the living room, she was d-dead. You were sitting on the floor crying. You had that nasty scar on your forehead, and it was bleeding all over the place. The living room was a disaster, but Voldemort was nowhere to be found." Lily buried her face in her hands and starting shaking with sobs.

"Vernon never forgave us for her death. He thinks it was our fault. And it partially was," James said sadly.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking. His aunt would never give her life to try and save him. She would have used Harry as a shield! But all the same, Harry had a moment of silence in honor of the aunt he had thought he hated. Harry wasn't sure how he never knew that his aunt died protecting him and not his mother, and why he thought he had grown up with the Dursleys but then again, he didn't really care either. He must have dreamt it while he was in his coma. All that mattered was how life was now.

Or maybe, Harry thought as he remembered the horcrux ambush, the spell had sent him to an alternate universe. Or maybe, he really did have a wild-advnture dream after falling from his broom. Harry looked around at the adults around him, and Harry decided he really didn't care. This felt right.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came bustling in with a tray of potions. "It's good to see you awake, dearie," she said kindly. "Now, drink these potions. This one is for the pain. This one will help your muscles regain their strength more quickly. And you may take this one later tonight when you're home. It's a dreamless sleep potion." Harry quickly drank down the first two potions, and James took hold of the third, while keeping an arm around his wife. "Now, you've been laying down for an awfully long time. When you first came in here, you were an absolute mess, broken bones, cuts and scrapes, a few gashes, though those have been healed, you will still need to be careful, your body had started to waste away while you were in your coma. Take it slowly, but keep moving and try to rebuild your muscles," the nurse instructed, looking at Harry and his parents pointedly. She gave Lily a piece of parchment with what Harry assumed were the written equivalents to the instructions she gave before leaving the five adults and Harry alone.

"School officially starts in a week, but given the circumstances, you will not be returning for at minimum a month. Madam Pomfrey will visit you once a week and tell you when you may return to school. Until you do, your parents, Sirius and Remus will be home schooling you. I suggest you keep up with your studies. Good luck, Harry," Dumbledore said. He then nodded his head in acknowledgement to the other four adults and smiled at Harry before leaving them. Harry watched the wizened wizard leave, his mind buzzing with all the instructions he had just been given.

"Ready to go home?" Lily offered.

Harry looked at his mother and grinned widely. "Am I ever!" he said happily. He swung his legs over the bed and stood up. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. The pain was gone, but the muscles wouldn't support him. He threatened to black out as his mind swam and his legs buckled underneath him. Sirius rushed forward and caught Harry.

"Perhaps we'll carry you home, eh?" Sirius offered with a smile. Harry returned the smile gratefully and allowed his godfather to pick him up. Harry felt a little ashamed being carried like a little kid, but his legs couldn't hold his weight, so he swallowed his pride and looked forward to going home. One by one, Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily flooed to Godric's Hollow. Harry felt ill as he spun around in the fireplace. He quickly closed his eyes and leaned into his godfather. Luckily, Sirius was better at flooing than he was, and stepped out of the fireplace neatly, not the least bit unsteady.

Harry looked around him in wonder as his eyes drank in the sight of Godric's Hollow, his home.


	2. Chapter 2

"How's he doing?"

"Okay, I guess. He keeps talking about the war with Voldemort, and how he has to fight. He doesn't really know what's going on either."

Harry looked up from his homework to listen in as his father and Sirius talked in low tones. They obviously didn't want Harry to hear what they were saying, but the door was cracked open.

"You don't think his brain was jarred a bit too much in that fall, do you?"

"It's a possibility," James sighed. "Lily was so worried about him when he was in that coma, but she's a lot worse now that he's awake. She gets really upset whenever he can't remember something as simple as his little sister. When we went to pick Petunia up from her friend's house to take her to Hogwarts, Harry didn't say a word. No taunts, no hellos, nothing. He didn't even tell her some dramatic story about the fall. It was so unlike him. Petunia tried to get him to talk, but he never responded. It broke Lily's heart, those two always got along before the accident."

"You heard what Poppy said. It may take some time for him to get reoriented. After all, he's been in la-la land for the past three months. It's only to be expected if he thinks his dreams are real," Sirius said reassuringly. "And it's only been a little over a week, give him time. He'll come around."

"I suppose. But what if he doesn't come around?" James asked worriedly. Harry's stomach knotted as he realized how much trouble he was causing his parents. Harry stopped listening to the conversation for a minute and focused his mind on the strange feeling he had when he thought about how much trouble he was causing his parents; he wasn't used to it, but nor did he want to become used to it. A part of Harry told him that he was right. This wasn't the real world, and he was just dreaming that everyone was okay. But another part told him that this was all real. He really did have two loving parents, and his dad's two best friends were still okay. Harry's mind swam; he didn't know what to think anymore. He was saved the worries of thinking when Sirius burst through the door.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked, pretending to be shocked. His huge smile was plastered on his face, and it looked genuine. Harry couldn't believe that only moments ago this man had been talking in low tones with his dad.

"Studying," Harry said innocently. His parents were strict teachers and demanded he do all of his homework, whether or not he would be tested; it was not as fun as he had hoped it would be to have his parents teach him.

"And how on earth are you going to build up those muscles lying in bed studying?" Sirius asked, yanking the covers off of Harry.

Harry smiled sheepishly. He hadn't been moving as much as Pomfrey would like. It was exhausting building up muscles lost after three months in bed, so he avoided it. Sirius had taken it upon himself to make sure that Harry got his physical needs in every day.

"Come on, we're going flying," Sirius said, pulling on Harry's arm.

Harry froze and the smile slid off of his face. Flying? Didn't he _just_ fall fifty feet from a broom and nearly _die_. No thank you, he was staying firmly on the ground.

Sirius noticed Harry's tension and turned around and looked at Harry seriously. "You have to get back on that broom or you'll be scared of flying forever," Sirius said paternally.

"I'm too tired," Harry lied. "Can we just go for a walk?" He wanted nothing more than to show Sirius he wasn't some wimp, but more than that, he was terrified to leave the ground.

Sirius looked at Harry appraisingly for a moment.

"Look, I don't want to fly! Can we forget about it?" Harry said, a little louder than necessary. He was tired of this strange new world. Yes, it was wonderful, but he hated being treated like a kid, and currently he was being treated like a naughty toddler. James poked his head inside the room to see what the ruckus was about, looking concerned as he saw Harry halfway through getting out of bed. James didn't look pleased about the idea of letting his son stay grounded, but he nodded his head.

"Padfoot, stick to the ground today. He worked hard in lessons," James said, still looking at Harry.

"But he's got to get on a broom sometime! Do you want your son to be petrified of ever flying again?" Sirius asked his friend. James sighed. "I thought not," Sirius said triumphantly.

"Just for today, stick to the ground, please?" James asked. He didn't want to be pushing his son too hard to get back to normal.

"But he's flying tomorrow," Sirius said stubbornly. Harry slowly got out of bed and followed Sirius out of his first floor bedroom (stairs were still a little much for him, so they changed the den into another bedroom for Harry). Harry walked slowly, but Sirius stayed by him.

Harry thought back to when Sirius said they were going flying. Why had he been so scared? Why had he gotten so angry? Hadn't he always loved flying? He didn't _really_ fall fifty feet from a broom. This was all a dream!

But if this was a dream, Harry argued with himself, then why was he scared to get on a broom? And why did every hair follicle feel so sore, you weren't supposed to get hurt in dreams.

"Why am I so scared of flying all of a sudden?" Harry asked, confused.

"That fall was pretty horrible. I suppose I was pushing you too hard. I'm sorry," Sirius said, relenting. "But you really need to get on a broom again. The fear will only get worse," he said wisely.

"But I've fallen before!" Harry said, frustrated. He spent a night in the hospital after blacking out from dementors, a night regrowing bones, and of course all the times he fell but stayed out of the hospital wing.

"But you've never hit the ground full force from fifty feet up," Sirius reasoned, sounding more mature than Harry ever remembered. Harry had to agree with him. But still, he had never been scared of flying before.

"But I want to fly now!" Harry said impatiently, getting angry with himself.

"Then let's go flying."

Harry looked at his godfather, fear freezing him. Harry shook his head.

"Why can't I just get over this stupid fear?" Harry demanded heatedly.

"You'll fly again, don't worry," Sirius reassured him. "Now, I do believe it's been nearly an hour since you last asked a question," he said suggestively, smiling at Harry.

Harry gratefully accepted the topic change, though he was still upset that he was afraid of nothing less than flying.

"Since when do I have a little sister?" he asked, voicing one of his biggest questions since he saw the small girl.

"Since you were about four. You and she look so much alike. You used to act kind of alike too, though Petunia's a bit more like Lily than you are," Sirius replied fondly.

"I would have remembered if I had a sister!" Harry retorted.

"Well you obviously don't. James told me how you reacted to seeing her."

"Her name's Petunia?" Harry asked, thinking about the horse-faced aunt he had known. In his dream, Harry added, reminding himself that he was in real life now.

"Yes, after your aunt you died saving you, when _he_ tried to kill you," Sirius said, obviously not wanting to talk about that night.

"Wait, where's Peter?" Harry had figured that since his family hadn't been in hiding, at least not in the same way he remembered, then Peter wouldn't have betrayed his parents. But he hadn't been around. Harry didn't think he wanted to see that man ever again, especially if there was no reason for his hatred outside of his dream, but he still wanted to know what became of the rat. And since Sirius brought the night up, why not follow the man's lead?

Sirius' face instantly darkened and Harry almost regretted the question. But curiosity got the better of him, and he waited for Sirius to respond. "I don't know who you're talking about," Sirius said coldly after a tense pause.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, desperately trying to think of another question to ask. Sirius looked frightening at the moment, and Harry was anxious to get rid of the look that reminded him of the Sirius freshly escaped from Azkaban and getting ready to kill Peter.

"So, who won the World Cup?"

"Bulgaria. That Krum guy is really amazing," Sirius said, relaxing a little.

Harry smiled and nodded his head. Viktor Krum was not only a really good flyer, but also a friendly person, if a bit quiet. "Yeah, I met him two years ago," Harry remembered, not thinking about the fact that maybe he didn't meet him out side of his dream. "Not a bad bloke, given he's from Durmstrang."

Sirius looked at Harry sternly. "Just don't remind your parents about that tournament," he advised. "Though it is good to hear you remembering things," he added with an encouraging smile.

"Do you have any questions about any particular people?" Sirius asked with an impish smile.

Harry's mind immediately went to Ron and Hermione. Were they real, or had he just dreamt them?

"How are they?" he asked, afraid to say their names in case they weren't real.

"They?" Sirius asked.

"Ron and Hermione," Harry replied, hoping that they were here. Even with his parents, he wasn't sure he could handle Hogwarts without them, especially without Hermione's notes.

"Oh, they're fine. I believe they sent you a letter from school," Sirius said offhandedly, trying to get Harry to think of someone else.

"So they weren't who you were talking about?" Harry asked, wracking his mind for someone else he cared about that might be worried about him. Neville would be worried, as would the other boys from his dorm, but he didn't think any of them would send him a letter. He could see the Creevey brothers sending him cards, but he didn't think Sirius was talking about them. Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"You mentioned her when you woke up," Sirius hinted.

"Ginny," Harry guessed, wanting to hit himself for forgetting about her. Though, he had kind of broken things off with her in his dream. He supposed it was only natural to dismiss her outside of the dream as well.

"She's quite worried about you. Though I imagine she's going to give quite the talking to about you risking your life for a game," Sirius said, smiling. He then leaned into Harry and whispered conspiratorially, "Though I hear that your catch was brilliant. It was worth the coma, especially since you won the Quidditch Cup and House Cup in your first year as captain."

Harry smiled gratefully at his godfather while his mind whirled at the mention of Ginny. Last he knew she was in danger because of her connection to him. Apparently, he had never thought of that connection outside of his dream. Apparently, the dream that spanned an entire lifetime was his subconscious solving problems of his. Maybe he should try to live life like his dream.

"Didn't I break up with her?" Harry asked. He knew this war probably one of those questions you just weren't supposed to ask, but he had to know.

The smile on Sirius' face vanished. "Not remembering your sister, I can sort of understand, coming from my family as I did, but not remembering your girlfriend! That's not going to go over very well. Let me tell you from experience, if you can't remember a girl's name after a night of snogging, you're likely to get slapped. I can only imagine the kind of beating you'd get if your forgot the name of your girlfriend of a year. I'd start remembering stuff about her as soon as you can."

"Gee, thanks for the tip-off," Harry said miserably. Ginny was going to kill him...if he didn't get her killed first. "I should break up with her," Harry said decisively. After all, that was what his subconscious wanted; he saw that in his dream.

"I was just kidding, I'm sure she'll understand if you don't remember her. She's a great girl. Just get to know her again. You two being together reminds me of your mother and father. You'll get through this, I promise," Sirius said earnestly.

Harry looked at Sirius, feeling bad for the guy. It wasn't that Harry didn't remember Ginny; he didn't think he could ever forget the fiery-tempered girl. He just didn't want Voldemort to kill her. "But if Voldemort knows I like her, he'll just kill her to get to me," Harry said sadly, wishing with all his heart it could be otherwise.

"That didn't stop you all last year," Sirius countered, shocked at Harry's melancholy response.

"Yeah, well my dream taught me loads," Harry said bitterly. "Like if you love someone; they die."

"So you're saying that you don't love Lily, James, Remus or me?" Sirius asked quietly.

Harry looked up, shocked. How had he not noticed that before? "Sorry," he mumbled.

"You're a kid. Have fun and live like a kid, like you used to," Sirius said, looking Harry in the eye. Harry nodded his head, unsure of what to say. He wasn't used to Sirius giving him that kind of advice. Usually it was 'keep your nose clean' and 'be careful and use common sense.' "Just because you missed out on three months of your life doesn't mean you have to act three years older. Take a breath and have some fun." Harry tore his eyes away from Sirius' gray ones and looked at the grass, pushing it around with his sneaker.

"I think you've walked enough for today," Sirius said gently. Harry nodded his head and started to walk back to the house. However nice it was to have a conversation like that with Sirius, it felt odd to Harry, and he was almost glad to have a minute to think.

Harry decided he'd get something to drink, he was tired from his walk, but didn't want to go back to his homework; he'd do it later. Right now, he wanted to think about life as he knew it, or rather, didn't know it, starting with why Sirius still hated Peter if the Potters were never killed.

Harry stepped into the kitchen to see his father bending by the fireplace talking to a head Harry didn't recognize. He froze when he heard the two in serious conversation. He didn't want to interrupt, and he was curious as to what they were talking about.

"I can't come in today," James said sadly. "It's just, my son, Harry, he's not acting himself, and Lily isn't handling it well." Harry looked around the kitchen, he wasn't sure how he had failed to notice, but he hadn't seen his mother around much since he got home.

"James, you have to come into work sooner or later. I can't keep your desk waiting for you," the man said gravely. "You have to understand. This is a business, we don't have the resources to shut down because a kid is out of sorts."

"Yes, I understand. Just one more day, please?"

"Okay, James. One more day, but after that, I'm going to have to let you go. Please don't make me do that," the man said. "I like you James, I don't want to fire you."

"What if I came in and worked evenings?" James offered.

"But what about Harry?" the man asked, sounding concerned. "I don't want this job to come between you and your family. We both know you don't need the job."

"Sirius will come and be with him," James explained.

"Come in for a couple hours tonight, and we'll talk about adjusting your schedule. I know this is a hard time for you and Lily. If you ever need anything...," the man offered before disappearing in the flames. Harry watched as the flames turned back to a cheery orange before he took a step into the kitchen.

"Dad?" he said quietly. James jumped from where he had sat down at the table.

"Harry!" he said with a false happiness.

"I can take care of myself, I promise. Go to work," Harry said, besides, it would give him a chance to have some fun during the day instead of working.

"You heard that?" James asked. He didn't want Harry or Lily to know that he was taking too much time off of work for Harry. Harry nodded his head, for once a kid feeling guilty for his dad's unhappiness. The feeling was foreign, and quite unwelcome to Harry. "Come here," James said, pulling the chair next to him away from the table. Harry silently took a seat and looked at his father. "Don't tell your mother about that conversation. I won't lose my job," James assured his son. "And don't feel guilty about it either. I would rather spend a day with my son after he's been all but dead for three months than spend a day at work anytime. Understand?" James said, looking at Harry.

Harry felt like James was seeing right into his brain, and quickly broke eye contact. "Yeah, I understand," he said quietly, still feeling horribly guilty.

"Now, I believe you had a question to ask me," James said, correctly guessing the reason for the boy's troubled looks.

"Peter," Harry said quietly, hoping he was doing the right thing by asking his dad. Sirius had been really upset when asked about his old friend, but Harry really wanted to know.

James' jaw clenched, but he didn't claim to not know a Peter as Sirius had. James stared at a cabinet behind Harry's head with cold eyes. Harry was just about to tell him to forget it when James spoke up.

"He's the reason your aunt is dead. And he's the reason you've got that bloody scar on your forehead," James said, still staring at the cabinet. Harry thought about steering the conversation into the direction of Peter's punishment, but thought better of it. James seemed to be lost in his memories, and Harry didn't want James to close up to him.

"He promised me he'd die before letting Voldemort get to you. He had been almost as fond of you as I am. He'd come over nearly everyday just to play peek-a-boo with you. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy," James said, a slight smile now on his face. "He'd transform and let you chase him around the room. It was really great seeing the two of you play together. I won't ever forget those last few days," James said sadly. "Then, we went into hiding and Peter begged me to let him be our secret keeper. Sirius said it would be clever. Voldemort would never think of us using Peter. So it was done. Peter still came to see us, though not nearly as often. After a couple of weeks, Peter went into hiding as well." James took a deep breath as he came closer and closer to talking about Peter's betrayal. "Next thing we knew, we were celebrating Petunia's birthday, and _he_ came. It was the worst day of my life," James said coldly.

"Sirius wanted to go after Peter, but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't allow one of my best mates from school to kill an old friend. Turns out it didn't matter. We told Dumbledore that we used Peter and that Peter was an unregistered anamagi, a rat. It only took three days. Peter was captured. He confessed to spying for Voldemort and was given the dementor's kiss." Harry looked at his father and was shocked to see a tear forming in the man's hazel eye. He had never thought his dad had been one to cry. "I stood there and watched. I told him back in Hogwarts that I would be there until the end for him. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen." James fell silent, lost in his memories of his old best friend. Harry sighed silently.

He had been right in his dream, James didn't want one of his best friends to become a murderer on account of Peter, but then again, James never really wanted Peter to die either.

After what felt like an eternity, James broke the buzzing silence. "Harry, please don't hate me for not wanting revenge on Peter. You have to understand, he had been one of my best friends for eight years. It's not that I agree with what he did or value him over you or your aunt," James said, begging Harry to understand, to forgive him. Harry looked into those haunted eyes and could only imagine how long James felt guilty for not seeking revenge on his best friend for his son. He must feel terrible.

Harry looked at James in the eye and said honestly, "I could never hate you for standing by your friend." James smiled a little bit, relieved that his son hadn't taken offence to his past deeds. "I'm honored to be your son, and I'm proud that you stood by him until the end, even as he was given the kiss," Harry said sincerely. James smiled widely at this and pulled Harry into a bear hug.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry shuffled through the thick stack of parchment, looking at the senders' names: Ginny, Ron, Hermione, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Petunia, Ginny, the Creevey brothers, Ginny, Hermione, a girl named Nora, Ron, Ginny, Neville. Harry sighed and pulled out the one from his alleged sister.

_Harry,_

_How are you doing? It's so weird being at Hogwarts without you; you have no idea! Although, I don't see how you would know what it's like since you can't be here to see it happen. As you can imagine, everyone keeps asking me about you. As if I can tell them if you remember them or not! Oh, and the Creevey brothers wanted to know if you preferred candy or jokes. I think they want to send you something to make you feel better. Just watch out; I think they were trying to bewitch them to say something when you open the wrappers. _

_The Quidditch team is all out of sorts without you. (I'm sure it devastates you that we apparently can't get along without you.) Apparently you're keeping your post as captain, but Bell is taking your place until you get back. Though, she is waiting to hold try-outs for the open beater spot until you get back. (You know you could just appoint me to the spot. I already tried out anyway, six years ago when I creamed you in our back yard. Ha, remember the look on Mum's face when she saw me on Dad's broom? She was ready to kill me! So, since you know I'm a killer flier, and I've got way better arm strength than you do, I'll just appoint myself beater and take over your captain position!)_

_Ginny wants to know why you haven't returned any of her owls. I told her you only woke up two weeks ago, but she still seems kind of huffy about it. If you ask me, she's just worried about you. Isn't she sweet? And you said she'd never warm up to you._

_Hermione wants to know if you want her notes from classes. I told her Mum and Dad are teaching you at home, but she seems to think that the professors at Hogwarts might mention something important for your NEWTs. Ron keeps telling her to give you a break. I don't see how you put up with those two! They bicker more than anyone I've ever seen! Although, it may be worse since you're not here. So, do us all a favor and get your butt back here and make those two shut up. Although, perhaps it'll be worse when you get back. After all, you'll get to deal with everyone asking you about your accident. Just don't make it sound worse than it is... or else I may have to send you back to Mum and Dad. Wouldn't you love that? _

_Oh, speaking of professors, we have a new DADA teacher (big surprise, I know). It's this bloke named Killen. He's really nice though. Believe it or not, he's a really good teacher—even Hermione approves, and you know that says something!_

_Well, I've got to go, break's almost over. Write back soon!_

_Pet _

Harry read over the letter again. He had gotten the letter yesterday but still hadn't responded. How was he supposed to write a letter to a girl he had never met? Harry pulled a piece of parchment out of his desk, unscrewed the lid to his ink well, and dipped his quill. He could just pretend that he was writing a letter to Hermione. After all, she was like a sister to him, right?

_Petunia,_

_I'm fine, how are you? I hope you're well. I'm fine, a little disoriented, but I'm becoming accustomed to life. _

Harry scratched out the line and crumpled the piece of parchment. It sounded way too stiff to be a letter to his sister—and a close one, from what Sirius said.

_Pet, _

_Life at home's pretty dull. I can't wait to be back at Hogwarts. Just tell everybody that I'm clueless and can't remember anyone._

Harry crumpled that failed attempt too. He didn't want people to get mad at him. He threw one of the crumpled pieces at the waste basket in his room, annoyed that he couldn't even write a simple letter to anyone in this world, real life. _Anymore_, Harry added to himself. He must have written letters to people in this life, this dimension at some time.

Harry pulled out a third piece of parchment and stared at it angrily. He had no idea what he and his sister talked about. He didn't even know _how_ to talk to his sister.

"What's the matter?" a woman's voice said from the doorway. Harry turned to look at his mother. He didn't want to bother her by saying he didn't know how to write a letter to his little sister, but if anyone could help him, she could.

"Petunia wrote me a letter, and I don't know what to say," Harry said. "If she's such a close sister, she should _know_ I can't remember anything!" Harry growled.

Lily frowned at her son's outburst, but let it slide. "First of all, call her Pet. That's what you've called her since you were little," She suggested as she sat down on the end of Harry's bed. "Second of all, don't worry about what you write, she'll understand if it doesn't really sound like the you she knows. She knows you're going through a tough time, and she won't turn her back on you if you sound too formal with her. Respond to the letter as if you were writing to a friend—Ron for instance."

"But she's not Ron! I know Ron!" Harry cried, frustrated.

Lily sighed. "So pretend she's Hermione."

"I tried that," Harry said, exasperated. "That's what happened." He glared at the crumpled pieces of paper on the floor. Lily bent over the edge of the bed and picked up one of the failed attempts. She scanned over the two lines and smoothed it out. Harry roughly took it from her outstretched hand.

"But if she tells everyone I don't remember them, everyone will get mad at me," Harry complained, beginning to crumple the parchment up again.

Lily put her hand over Harry's hand and stopped him. "Tell her you're joking and that you don't know who you remember," Lily advised gently.

Harry looked at her hand with a small smile.

"What?" she asked. Harry looked up into the sparkling green eyes that matched his own.

"It's just so good to see you alive," Harry said quietly. Lily pursed her lips and Harry saw tears well in her eyes. "Sorry!" he said, suddenly aware of how insensitive that comment had sounded. But it was true! After sixteen years of thinking she was dead, it was nice to know it had all been a dream.

Lily smiled, though Harry could tell it was a forced smile. "That's okay," she said. "But perhaps I ought to leave you alone with your letter," she said, her voice thickening with the threatening tears. Lily stood up and quickly left the room, leaving Harry staring confusedly after her.

Harry sat at his desk thinking about his mum. He hadn't wanted to upset her, but obviously by referring to his dream, he had. He probably ought to apologize to her, but what was he going to apologize for? All he had really done was tell her that he loved her...in very different words.

Harry shook his head and decided not to worry about it. He dipped his quill into the inkpot and put the nib to the smoothed out piece of parchment.

He heard a quiet knock at the door, but he didn't turn to see who it was. "Door's open," he called. Harry heard footsteps and the protest of the bedsprings as his visitor sat on his bed.

"Harry, maybe we should get someone to help you remember things," James said quietly. Harry turned around to face his father.

"I didn't mean to upset Mum," he said honestly. James sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I know, but it's been just over two weeks. You should be remembering more than you are," James said, keeping his voice low. "Just come with me to talk to someone and figure out if we should start worrying about you or not," James said. Harry got the impression that he didn't really have a choice, but he nodded his head anyway.

"Good. Get dressed then. We should go now," James said, standing up from the bed. He seemed more at ease now that Harry agreed to go.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but James was already out the door and had shut it behind himself. He sighed and pulled out a set of muggle clothes. There was no use in arguing with his stubborn father anyway.

An hour later, Harry was sitting on an uncomfortable examination table, and his parents were sitting in nearby chairs. They had been ushered into the room by an unfriendly nurse and been told the doctor would be in shortly. Harry stared at the bland door, disgruntled; his father hadn't mentioned anything about going to St. Mungo's.

A few minutes later, a tall young man with auburn hair walked into the room. Harry looked sourly at the man. Quickly following him were Madam Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore. James jumped up and shook hands with the elderly wizard and smiled gratefully at the school nurse. Lily smiled appreciatively at the Hogwarts staff before turning her attention to the healer in the room.

"Hi, I'm Healer Johnson," the man said, offering his hand first to Harry, then to James, and then to Lily. "But please call me Derek," he said as he took a seat in his chair with wheels. He wheeled over to the examination table and smiled up at Harry. "Now, Harry, what seems to be the problem?" Harry watched Dumbledore conjure a couple of comfortable chairs.

"Didn't they tell you?" Harry asked. He really didn't want to explain his stupid accident and his loss of memory if he didn't have to.

"Yes they did. After all, I'm an expert in the field of psychology. But I'd like to hear it from your point of view," the man said with a smile. He made a few notes on his notepad in the typical unreadable scratch of a doctor.

Harry sighed before beginning. "I was playing Quidditch. I caught the snitch. A beater from the other team hit me after I caught the snitch and knocked me off of my broom. I fell fifty feet. Three months later, I woke up at Hogwarts. Two weeks after that, I'm sitting in front of you," Harry said monotonously.

"Can you tell me about the dream you had while you were in the coma? Just skip over anything you don't remember for now."

"Professor, isn't there a spell that will recover my memory?" Harry asked the headmaster. Dumbledore gave a small smile at the teenager's impatience.

"Harry, a mind is a precious asset, and a very complicated one at that. I wouldn't dream to presume myself able to repair lost memories. That is something you must do on your own."

"But you can modify people's memories without blinking. Surely there's a reversal spell for that!" Harry said.

"Harry, Healer Johnson is an esteemed member of the St. Mungo's staff. He specializes in memories. Answer his questions, and you may find yourself in school in a few days' time."

Harry sighed and turned back to the wizard in green robes. "It was like a whole other life. I remember events from sixteen years of life. What parts would you like to hear about?"

"Any major points, such as people and relationships, or traumatic experiences up until the moment you woke up."

"I was the boy who lived, except my mum died saving me. My dad died before her. So I grew up with my aunt and uncle, and they weren't exactly loving guardians. I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid gave me my letter. At the end of first year, I met Voldemort while he possessed a teacher. At the end of second year, I fought a basilisk and destroyed a Voldemort-possessed diary. At the end of third year, I helped a convict, who turned out to be my godfather, escape the dementors' kiss because he was innocent. At the end of fourth year, I dueled Voldemort again after he got his body back and saw a friend murdered. At the end of fifth year, my godfather was killed in a battle, and I heard the prophecy made about Voldemort and me. And at the end of sixth year, I watched a Snape murder Dubledore after I helped him capture a horcrux. Then, during the next summer, I was out getting another horcrux, and my friends and I were ambushed. We were running back to where we could apparate back to headquarters. I was hit by a curse and blacked out. Next thing I knew, I woke up at Hogwarts...with my parents."

Derek looked at Harry in amazement; his quill had stopped moving halfway through Harry's story. Lily and James stared at Harry, tears threatening to come out of Lily's eyes. James held her close, but continued to stare at Harry in shock. Dumbledore stroked his beard as if Harry's story were some intriguing puzzle, and the fact that one of his trusted staff members had killed him wasn't the least bit disturbing. Madam Pomfrey covered her opened mouth with her hand, but managed to refrain from saying anything.

"That's the main outline," Harry said, prompting the man to come out of his stupor.

"Oh, uh, do you remember detailed events to fill in the blanks in your dream?"

"Yes," Harry said emotionlessly. He looked to his parents briefly before turning back to the healer.

"Do you remember your life before the Quidditch accident? Before your coma?"

"No."

"Tell me more about your dream world. Did you get along with your parents?"

"They were dead," Harry said flatly. Didn't this bloke remember anything?

"What about your guardians?"

"I told you. They weren't entirely fond of me and hated the magical world."

"And your guardians were your aunt and uncle, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Do you currently have any relatives that feel the same way?"

Harry looked to his dad for help with the answer. James said nothing, merely smiling encouragingly at his son. Harry looked to his mother, but he got the same response. "I can't remember," he said dully. Lily slumped in her chair and James whispered in her ear.

The healer then turned to Harry's parents, and James spoke up. "His uncle hates the wizarding kind and prefers to pretend we don't exist. Especially since his wife was killed by you-know-who."

"Did you have any friends in your dream?"

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione," Harry said, wistfully remembering them. His sister had mentioned them in her letter, so he assumed they weren't just figments of his imagination, but what if they were different? He thought back to his unread letters, but he couldn't bring himself to read them. What if they were completely different than he remembered?

"They are his real best friends. He also has a girlfriend, Ginny," Lily said. Harry looked at Lily, wishing she wouldn't bring Ginny up. He didn't know where he stood in any relationship, let along _that_ one!

"I see," Derek said. Harry hated it when people said that. What do they see? The healer made a note on his notepad.

"Was your life in your dream how you want your life to be?"

"Yeah, I've always wanted my parents to be dead, to be raised being called 'freak', going to school as someone who's famous for a ruddy scar, and being Voldemort's biggest target," Harry said sarcastically. Derek looked quickly over his shoulder at the evil wizard's name, but quickly turned back to Harry. Harry heard a rustle of cloth as his father wrapped his arm around Lily.

"Is that really how you feel?" Derek asked, his quill touching the notepad, waiting for Harry's answer.

"No," Harry said.

"Do you remember any times you thought about a life like your dream?"

"Before my coma, I don't remember anything, let alone my thoughts," Harry repeated.

"Ah, yes, that's right," Derek said, circling something on his notepad.

"Are we really getting anywhere?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Harry!" Lily rebuked her son.

"No, it's okay," Derek said, putting up a hand. "He's right. We seemed to have come to a stalemate. I will look up various cases of amnesia and see what I can find. In the mean time, I want you two to continue telling Harry stories. Maybe something will jumpstart his memory, an we'll have someplace to go from," Derek said, looking at Lily and James. The husband and wife nodded their heads solemnly and clasped hands. "Harry, don't get frustrated if you can't remember everything right away. Just keep at it," he added encouragingly to Harry. "Now, I'd like to see Harry again in a few days. So, please talk to my receptionist and set up an appointment," he said. James nodded again and stood up. Derek followed suit and shook hands with James.

Lily nodded her head in acknowledgement of the young healer and placed her hands on Harry's shoulders, directing him out of the room. "Thank you, Healer Johnson," she said with a smile. "Professor, Madam, would you like to come over for tea?" Lily offered.

"Sounds charming," Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair with a swish of robes.

"I'm afraid I can't. Students might need my help. I came because Healer Johnson is here at my request. And Harry's medical past might have been needed," the nurse said briskly.

"Perhaps another time," Lily offered.

"During the holiday, perhaps. It's always a pleasure to talk to you," the nurse said before leaving the room.

Harry let himself be steered out of the room, wishing desperately that he could remember more and not have to come back to St. Mungo's. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of seeing a shrink every few days. He looked up to his mother and saw a spark of determination in her eyes. He sighed and decided he'd go through with it. After all, he owed it to his parents after being in a coma for three months.

Once the three adults and Harry were safely home, Lily began getting out her tea server.

"That didn't seem very productive," James said. Harry looked at Lily, waiting for her reaction. He hadn't planned on saying anything, but maybe since James brought it up, it would be an acceptable topic.

"James!" Lily cried, smashing a teacup. She brandished her wand and the china flew back together. "We've got to do everything we can to get our Harry back. If Dumbledore says this guy can help us, then by God, we're going to do our best to help this bloke help our son!" Lily said, pointing her index finger in her husband's face. "Isn't that right, sir," Lily said kindly to the headmaster. Harry watched, fascinated by Lily's temper. It reminded him of Ginny's temper, he thought fondly.

Dumbledore chuckled and looked at the young couple. "In the end, Harry's going to have to get his memory back on his own. Healer Johnson may or may not be able to help him speed the process along," Dumbledore said noncommittally.

"Seems like a waste of good money," James grumbled.

"Are you calling your son's welfare a waste of money?" Lily asked, outraged.

"I'm still here, you know," Harry announced loudly. James and Lily looked at him for a minute before going back to their argument.

"No, but I'm calling paying some bloke in green robes asking our son questions a waste of money," James retorted.

"Well, we haven't exactly been asking him questions ourselves, now have we?" Lily said, dangerously quiet.

"Perhaps we ought to leave these two alone," Dumbledore suggested into Harry's ear. All too eager to get out of the tension in the kitchen, Harry hurriedly left the kitchen behind Dumbledore.

Once in the safety of the living room, Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Sir, I don't want them fighting about me," Harry said helplessly.

Dumbledore smiled. Harry wanted to shout at the man. Dumbledore seemed to have an infuriating habit of smiling at the least funny moments. "You apparently have lost your memory," he said merrily. "Those two will fight for a few minutes, then they'll cool their heels and be as loving as ever. It's been that way since their Hogwarts days," Dumbledore finished fondly. "I'm going to read a few of your mother's marvelous books. Why don't you go work on a few letters to friends? I'll come get you when we're ready to drink our reheated tea," the wizened wizard suggested.

Harry walked to his bedroom and shut the door. Harry looked around the room and missed seeing a snowy owl sitting on his desk with a mouse for him. The Potters owned two owls, one for the whole family and one Petunia and Harry shared. Since Hedwig was the owl that Petunia and Harry shared, she was living at Hogwarts.

Harry sat down at his desk and picked up the begun letter to his sister and dipped his quill in the inkwell.

_Pet,_

_Life at home's pretty dull. I can't wait to be back at Hogwarts. Just tell everybody that I'm clueless and can't remember anyone. Only joking! Mum and Dad had me go to a shrink today. Well, he called himself a healer, but I think Mum and Dad think I'm nutters and need a psychiatrist. You should hear the argument going on now! Mum wants me to keep going to this bloke, but Dad thinks it's a waste of money. Personally, I agree with Dad. _

_I can't wait to get back to Quidditch, though I haven't been flying yet. I know, I know, how am I going to stay Captain if I can't fly very well? Well, I don't know, so I guess I'll just have to start practicing tomorrow. And I'm sure you'll make the team, even with fair try-outs. _

_Tell Ginny that I'll get around to writing to her between all the homework Mum and Dad assign me and the healer visits (which may not be until after I get back to Hogwarts!)_

_Hermione can wait to make me study her notes in addition to mine until I get to Hogwarts, which shouldn't be too long. Although, this is NEWT year, I wouldn't want to compromise my chances of scoring well! And as for Ron and Hermione bickering, just yell in their faces to 'shut up' and if they don't listen to you, call them names, or walk disgustedly away. At least, that usually works for me. I'm not sure how it's going to work for my little sister._

_Well, if Hermione likes the teacher, _and_ you like the teacher, he must be really good! Though I don't know if anyone could be as good as Uncle Remus was (and no, he's not standing over my shoulder)._

_Well, it sounds like Mum and Dad have stopped arguing and Dumbledore's over for tea, so I'm going to send this off with Epona. _

_Good luck with school!_

_Harry_


	4. Chapter 4

Harry, we're going to be late," James said impatiently at his son's bedroom door.

"Why do I have to go? It's not like I remember anything anyway," Harry returned, not standing up from his desk. His parents had assigned him a nasty charms essay to write, and even slaving over it was better than getting asked stupid questions by _Derek_.

"Harry, please," Lily whispered from the doorway. Harry turned to look at her. Her eyes were red, and there were dark patches under her almond shaped eyes.

"Mum," Harry began, but Lily interrupted him.

"We're going whether you like it or not," she said firmly. She walked into the room and held onto Harry's arm tightly. Before Harry got a chance to get away, he felt the spinning sensation he had felt when he side-along apparated with Dumbledore. Or, he dreamed he did.

"Ah, so glad you could make it, Harry!"

Harry groaned as he limply shook the over-enthusiastic healer's hand.

"Now, we'll just go back to the room you were in on Monday, and we'll get started," Derek said cheerfully. Harry rolled his eyes, but followed the young man.

The three adults and Harry settled into the sterile room. There was an awkward silence before the healer shifted and looked at Harry. Harry looked back at the healer, desperately wishing Dumbledore were here, or even Madam Pomfrey. But they were terribly busy at Hogwarts. Harry had overheard snippets of conversations, something about them trying to sort out a mess containing dungbombs and redheads. "Remember anything yet?" the healer asked. Harry shook his head, but Derek just smiled. "No worries," he said.

"So then, what are we going to do? Certainly not sit here and ask a bunch of pointless questions?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Derek chuckled. "No. Actually, I've found a few spells I'd like to try—with your parents' permission, of course."

"What kind of spells?" James asked doubtfully.

"Oh, you know, an assortment, most of which must be cast directly on Harry, a few potions for him to drink, and I was even fortunate enough to find a rare spell that I cast on you and Lily," the healer said, perusing his scrawled list on a bit of spare parchment.

"And when was the last time you performed any of these?" James asked.

Derek shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "Well, uh, you see," he stumbled.

James looked at Lily, his look clearly saying 'I told you so,' but Lily ignored James and smiled at Harry. "If Harry doesn't object, I think it's worth a try," she said forcibly while smiling.

Harry looked between his parents. His dad was shaking his head no while his mother was nodding, her eyebrows raised. Unable to pick a parent, Harry shrugged and muttered incoherently. The reaction was instantaneous. James slumped his shoulders in defeat, Lily smiled happily, and Derek looked like an excited little boy. The latter reaction made Harry feel a little nervous. What would happen if Derek couldn't perform the spells properly?

Derek rolled his sleeves up and pulled his wand out of a pocket inside of his robes. Harry closed his eyes, waiting for... something. But nothing came. Derek spoke the incantation, and still nothing happened.

"Harry, can you tell me why you're here?" Derek asked after a few silent moments.

"Because I can't remember anything from before my fall," Harry said, opening his eyes.

"And is that true?"

"Yeah."

"So you don't remember anything?"

"No," Harry said, his shoulders slumping slightly. He had been hoping against all hope that the spell would work, and he'd be able to go back to his normal life.

Lily looked dismayed, but Derek smiled encouragingly. "Not to worry, we'll just try some of these others," he said, his eyes scanning the page. Harry sat up straighter and tried to read the incantations, but he couldn't read the healer's handwriting. _Maybe that was the problem_, Harry thought. _Perhaps the healer couldn't read his own handwriting._

Derek pushed his fallen sleeves back up and waved his wand elaborately, and Harry closed his eyes. Once again, Harry's hope and tension built, the healer said the spell, and nothing happened.

Harry opened his eyes and looked skeptically at the healer.

"Harry, can you tell me why you're here?" Derek asked after a few silent moments.

"Because I can't remember anything from before my fall," Harry said, annoyed that the healer would bother asking the_ same_ question _again_.

"And is that true?"

"Yeah."

"So you don't remember anything?"

"No," Harry said flatly, while restraining himself from sighing _too_ heavily at the irksome healer.

"Not to worry," Derek said, though he didn't sound as confident as before. "One of these spells has to work," he added, beginning to sound desperate as he crossed a second spell off of the list.

Harry looked at his dad. James shot a look that said 'I told you so,' to Lily. Lily rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the healer. Harry looked at Derek as well and saw the young man mumbling to himself.

"No, no, no. It's a jab at the end...oh dear, how is that pronounced?" the healer muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Derek's brow was creased in concentration.

Harry looked, alarmed, to his dad. James met Harry's eye and shrugged, saying 'it's out of my control.'

"Okay, I think I've got this one. Let's give it a try," Derek said brightly. Harry looked at the wand tip and at Derek, who didn't look too confident of his own skills. Harry's mind churned. There was no way he was going to let Derek try a new spell on him. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. It wasn't fully formed and was bound to have flaws, but it was better than letting Derek _experiment_ on him.

"Oh," Harry said, his hand reaching to his head.

"Are the spells giving you a headache?" Lily asked, concerned. "Can they do that?" she asked Derek apprehensively.

Derek put his wand down, seeming a little disappointed, and looked at his piece of parchment. "It's a possibility, everyone has different reactions to healing spells," he said, still reading something on his paper.

Harry rolled his eyes; they weren't exactly quick on the uptake. He rubbed his head a little harder.

"Are you all right?" James asked, leaning forward in his chair. He seemed genuinely concerned and looked Harry in the eye. Then Harry saw it. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he had seen his dad _wink. _

"It's... I'm seeing flashes," Harry lied.

"Of what?" Derek asked excitedly. He pulled his tablet from the desk drawer and dipped his quill in an inkpot. "Are you remembering things?" he questioned eagerly.

"Did...did Pet and I play quidditch in the backyard?" Harry asked, trying to sound uncertain.

Derek looked at Lily. She nodded her head ecstatically, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness. Derek looked surprised, but quickly overcame it and began scribbling furiously on the notepad.

_Maybe my memory was supposed to come back more certain than I was pretending_, Harry thought. Well that was too bad, he couldn't chance making up too much stuff; he'd get caught.

"Do you remember anything else?" Lily asked, now kneeling at Harry's feet, looking up into his eyes.

"I remember the fall..." Harry said. He rubbed his forehead again. "Can I have a headache draught?" he asked. He needed more time to think before he started making up memories. Derek opened a cupboard and pulled out a large container of the purple sludge. He poured a small portion into a plastic cup and handed it to Harry. Harry drank the potion in one quick gulp.

"Can we go home?" he asked his parents. Luckily, Pet had supplied him with a memory; he wasn't about to chance making one up on his own.

"Certainly, dear!" Lily said happily. She then turned to Derek. "Thank you so much!" Lily gushed over the young man. She hugged him, and Derek blushed. James' jaw stiffened, but otherwise gave no indication that he had even seen the hug. She then steered her son out of the room, half-hugging him as he walked. James followed them out, a large, somewhat forced grin on his face. He ran his hand through his hair and offered his other hand to the healer.

"Thank you," he said a little stonily. The two men shook hands, and James followed his wife and son. The trio walked to the fireplace and threw a bit of floo powder into it. All three of them stepped into the enormous fireplace at once and went home.

"James, we have to owl Dumbledore and tell him the good news!" Lily said the second they were out of the fireplace. "And I'll cook Harry a big lunch with all his favorites! We have to celebrate!" James laughed at his wife's giddiness and walked out of the living room in search of Epona. Lily went into the kitchen, and Harry followed her.

"We probably ought to invite Sirius and Remus—they'll want to know. Oh, Harry likes mashed potatoes...I wonder if we have any potatoes...I should probably invite them over before I start cooking...I don't want lunch to get cold..." Lily muttered to herself as she moved around the kitchen.

"I'll call them," Harry offered. Lily jumped and spun around, her hand on her chest.

"I didn't know you were there, sweetie! You startled me," she exclaimed.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Oh, no, it's not your fault." Lily looked at Harry happily for a moment. Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot while waiting for her to tell him if he could call Remus and Sirius. "It's good to have you back to normal, sweetie," she said happily. Harry smiled noncommittally.

"So, do you want me to call them?" he prompted his mother.

Lily looked like she was about to say something else, but she seemed to change her mind and instead asked, "Do you know where they live?"

"Can't I just stick my head into the flames and say their names?"

Lily beamed. "Yes, of course. Must've slipped my mind." She got a distant look in her eye and reached out a slender finger and brushed aside a lock of hair from Harry's forehead. "You're a wonderful boy. I'm very proud to be your mother," she said quietly before stepping back from her son.

Harry smiled uncertainly at his mother's behavior and left the kitchen. It was very odd to have someone fuss over him.

Once in the family room, Harry knelt beside the crackling fire and threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames. He stuck his head in and enjoyed the tickling sensation before calling out, "Sirius Black." Harry closed his eyes as he began to feel nauseated with his head spinning but his knees firmly planted on the hearthrug. Harry opened his eyes when he felt the spinning stop and looked out into a messy, but cheery kitchen.

"Sirius?" Harry called, nearly certain he had gone to the wrong fireplace. This didn't look anything like Grimmauld Place.

Sirius came striding into the room with a smile on his face. "Harry! And how are you today? Keeping active?" the man prompted.

"Mum wants you to join us for lunch," Harry said, ignoring Sirius' questions.

"Gee, and why would that be?" Sirius asked, though he sounded like he knew exactly why.

"How did you know?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Sirius winked. "I've got my ways. Tell your mum I'll be over in a bit. I just need to finish up some paperwork."

Harry smiled at the man once more before pulling his head out of the fireplace. He closed his eyes again as the spinning sensation began. Harry looked around the living room and smiled at his dad. "You had to tell Si...Uncle Sirius didn't you?" Harry asked, barely remembering to call his godfather _Uncle _Sirius.

James pointed at himself and asked playfully, "Who, me? I don't know what you're talking about. I was off owling Dumbledore."

"Your mirrors, Dad," Harry reminded the man. "The mirrors from your Hogwarts days." James frowned, and Harry was immediately worried that the mirrors didn't actually exist.

"How did you know about them?" James asked speculatively.

Harry looked around the room for inspiration. His eyes lit upon a picture of James, Sirius, and himself when Harry was but a toddler. "You showed them to me when I was little, didn't you?"

James looked uncomfortable, but Harry couldn't guess why. "Maybe I used it in front of you when you were little... your memory must be back a thousand percent," James said uncertainly. "Just don't tell your mum I've still got it, deal?" Harry nodded his head and father and son shook hands. Harry turned back to the fireplace, but saw his father shake his head as he walked into the kitchen.

Harry flooed his head to and from Remus' place, this time genuinely surprising his father's friend. Remus was very pleased and came over almost immediately.

Within twenty minutes, Harry, James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus were sitting around the kitchen table, enjoying a hearty lunchtime feast. Harry thought he would explode with all the good food (who knew Lily could cook?), and he was leaning back sleepily in his chair when Remus spoke up.

"So, when are you going back to Hogwarts?" Harry sat bolt upright in his chair. He hadn't thought about having to fool all the students, and surely they wouldn't be as restraining in asking Harry questions as his parents were. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that his friends—and even the people that knew him merely by sight—would bombard him with questions he couldn't answer.

"Remus," Lily reproached.

Remus shrugged and mumbled his apologies.

"No, I'd like to know too," Sirius said. Harry looked uneasily around at the adults that were peering at him. Harry was worried for a moment that maybe they knew he was faking the return of his memory, but when he looked into their faces, it seemed that they were genuinely curious about his decision. When Harry looked to his dad for help, the man merely leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"It's your decision. You can keep waiting if you want to," he said quietly so that only Harry noticed.

"Can I- Can I wait another week?" Harry asked, not sure he wanted to continue the facade of remembering everything at school. He wanted to see his friends; after all, it had been nearly four months since he had seen them in real life, but he didn't want to botch anything.

"Sure, honey," Lily said reassuringly. "Though, James, _you_ really ought to start going to work at your regular hours," she said as she spooned herself another helping of corn.

James looked at Sirius nervously. "Well, you see, Lils..." he began.

Lily put her fork down with a clang and looked at James commandingly. "You're not about to tell me that you _quit_, are you, James Potter?" she demanded.

James shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and Harry watched as Sirius and Remus averted their gazes, looking around the familiar settings.

"You didn't get _fired_, did you?" Lily asked, leaning closer into James, her eyes narrowed.

"But I needed to stay home with Harry," James said. "You didn't want to be alone with him," James said, his hand reaching out to comfort his wife. Harry stared at James. James had lost his job because of him... because he was a prat and said stupid things, his father had been fired. For the first time in his life...for the first time since his dream, Harry wished he had grown up without parents, or rather, without the guilt of everything being his fault – Lily's unhappiness, James getting fired, Lily and James arguing last week, the list went on and on. It was not a pleasant feeling having his stomach tied in knots because he couldn't make things better.

Lily knocked James' hand away and stood up. "James, you loved that job!" she exclaimed.

"We have plenty of money. We don't need jobs to get food on the table," James said.

"No, but you enjoyed going to work everyday, and we were saving that money," Lily said exasperatedly.

"Well, we'll put the money you earn into that fund," James said, looking at Harry.

"That's not the point, Potter," Lily said. James winced at the tone of her voice, but stood up to meet her glare.

"I made a choice, Evans. And that choice was to stay home with my son," James said, his hazel eyes beginning to narrow. Harry felt a tug on his sleeve and looked away from his parents to Sirius' amused face. Remus beckoned to Harry from behind Sirius, and the three of them crept out of the kitchen.

"They seem to argue a lot because of me," Harry said glumly.

"Don't worry about it. James'll get his job back in no time. It wasn't really a hard job to get. How many people want to spend their days flying brooms to make sure they don't kill people, only to earn a few galleons anyway? Besides, Lily's just upset about the principle of the matter. She really doesn't care that James got fired," Remus said calmly, sitting down on the loveseat. Harry still felt guilty, but plopped down in an armchair, resting the arches of his feet on the edge of the coffee table.

Sirius looked at Harry and added, "Don't worry, James can hold his own in an argument with Lily." Harry still looked unconvinced, so Sirius winked at him and said, "Tell you what, mate. You go in there and give your mum a hug and tell her you really loved spending time with your dad the past few days, and Lily will dissolve in front of you and completely forget that she originally didn't like the idea of James losing his job. Suddenly, it will have been really sweet of James to give up his job for you."

"You sure?" Harry asked.

Sirius shrugged and flopped down onto the loveseat. "Absolutely."

So Harry stood up and started to walk to the kitchen. He stopped short when he heard Lily calling James names—names he knew she would wash his mouth out for saying. He looked back to Remus and Sirius. They both nodded encouragingly, so Harry took a breath and stepped into the kitchen.

"What?" Lily snapped.

"I... er...just wanted to thank Dad for, uh, spending so much time with me," Harry said, looking at Lily warily. She looked at him appraisingly, and Harry rushed up to her and hugged her tightly. "And I don't want you to be mad at him for doing that, because I really loved spending so much time with him, since I usually can't," Harry said.

"Oh, sweetie!" Lily cried. She held Harry at arm's length and looked him in the eye. "I could never be mad at your dad!" she told him. "Besides," she said, her eyes flicking upward toward James. "That was really sweet of him to give up his job to spend some time with you," she said. Lily let go of Harry, and Harry smiled to himself. It was a little unnerving how well everyone seemed to know Lily and James, but it was definitely nice.

Lily walked up to James. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't realize how much it meant to Harry, for you to give up your job like that," she said quietly. James tucked a piece of her red hair behind her ear and looked at Harry and winked.

"Hey, Evans," James said softly, his forehead touching hers.

"Hey what, Potter?" Lily murmured, her eyes closed.

"Will you go out with me?" he asked, grinning. Lily looked up and rolled her eyes.

"Not even if it were between you and the giant squid," she said playfully. The two leaned in to kiss, and Harry took his cue and went back to the living room.

"How did you know that would work?" Harry asked Sirius.

Again, Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "They're pretty easy to predict when you've known them since you were eleven," Sirius said. Harry laughed and sat down on the armchair and pulled a Quidditch book towards him. He had to start making plays if he was going to go back to school soon. He suddenly felt much more anxious to get back to the friends _he_ had known since he was eleven. He could always tell them his memory was a touch-and-go thing still, despite being back for a few days. Besides, he still had to hold Quidditch try-outs and get caught up with his girlfriend.

AN: Well, this is now chapter four of this story. I hope you're enjoying it thus far. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing, and I REALLY want to thank my amazing beta, inky216. She's been an absolute Godsend!

However, I am kind of confused about this one part... I've had over 100 hits on each of the three previous chapters, yet I have a total of 12 reviews... Actually, I have a total of 506 hits! That means that for every 42 hits, I get one review... Okay, so I know that not every hit actually reads the chapter, so I'll move onto another statistic. 5 people have this story as a favorite...shouldn't you read it if it's a favorite? (Don't get me wrong, I'm very flattered that people list this story as one of their favorites...but would it kill you to review) Then there are the alerts... 11. So that means that they're probably reading this story too...So please, a couple more reviews each chapter would be really appreciated!  
**Coming Soon:** So, what's happening next chapter, asks you. Well, I'll give you a little hint...

Harry's now missed the first few weeks of school and he's written only one letter since he woke up. You remember, the one to Pet.

Hmm...I don't know if that's too much of a hint... but I suppose I'll let it go.


	5. Chapter 5

"But what if he doesn't want to come back? What if he doesn't remember us?" a red-haired girl fretted as her friends peeked around the corridor corner.

"Ginny, we've been over this," a tall, gangly boy replied, his head around the corner. "If he doesn't remember us now, he won't remember us by sitting in his room all day reading books."

"He's got a point," Hermione said logically. "People's memories of people are often linked with settings and faces. I'll bet Harry will remember everything once he sees us."

"Coast's clear," Ron muttered, bringing his head back from around the corner.

"All right, let's go," Ginny said, a quaver of nervousness evident in her voice. She extinguished the light of her wand and stepped around the corner by the DADA professor's office.

"Hurry," Hermione urged, throwing an apprehensive glance over her shoulder.

"Go where?" a voice asked from behind the trio.

The three spun around in surprise, but didn't answer the question.

"I asked you where you were going," the voice asked again. The girl took a step forward, into a beam of moonlight.

"We're going to pick Harry up," Ron said stubbornly. "And you're not going to stop us."

"Stop you? I'm coming with you!" Pet said breaking out into a large grin.

Hermione looked anxiously at the younger girl. "But with more people, we'll be much more likely to get caught," she pointed out.

"But if you have someone who's lived in the house her entire life and knows her parent's schedules and habits, you're much, _much_ less likely to get caught," Pet replied, smiling cheekily.

"Can we just go?" Ginny asked impatiently, eyeing the empty corridor around the corner.

Hermione gave Pet another anxious look before leading the foursome around the corner and into the professor's office. Ron immediately starting opening desk drawers, while Ginny and Hermione looked around the rest of the room for a stash of floo powder. Hermione was just about to give up when Ron gave a cry of happiness.

"I've got it!" he whispered, pulling a small, navy blue bag from the lower-right desk drawer. The four students quickly congregated around the fireplace, and Hermione cast a worried look at the closed door.

"Hurry," she urged, praying the professor wouldn't have a sudden urge to visit his office tonight.

Ron offered her the bag of floo powder. She quickly took a pinch, and then looked at Pet. "You should go first... it's your house," Hermione said.

"Meaning, if my parents are in the room, you think it would be best if _I_ got in trouble," Pet translated with an amused smile, her eyes dancing.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said indignantly. "Just poke your head through first, and then go the rest of the way through if the coast is clear."

"So you want me to get soot all over my new robes," Pet guessed.

"Guys! Just hurry up!" Ginny said exasperatedly. She looked pointedly at Pet and Hermione. Pet shrugged her shoulders and threw a pinch of floo powder into the glowing embers of the fireplace.

A green flare of flame whooshed up from the grate of the fireplace. Pet stuck her head inside and called, "Godric's Hollow." The remaining three watched apprehensively as the young girl sat still for a moment. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when she crawled the rest of the way through the fire. Within a minute, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Pet were all standing in the Potters' living room.

"Where do you suppose he'd be?" Ron asked loudly, looking around the comfortable room, wondering whether to go to Harry's room or if Harry might be elsewhere.

"Ron! Shut up!" Hermione hissed, anxiously peering through the darkened room for someone that may have heard their entrance.

"Sorry," Ron whispered sheepishly.

"This way," Pet said quietly, striding toward the stairs. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny followed her, tiptoeing gently across the carpeted floor, while Pet made no effort to be quiet. Pet reached the stairs and turned around, smiling at her brother's friends' antics. You know it's two in the morning? Everyone's sound asleep," she told them, her hand placed firmly on her jutted hip.

"It can't hurt to be careful, though. Can it?" Hermione hissed as she tiptoed past Pet. She knew where Harry's room was and didn't need Pet's assistance. The other three followed the witch up the stairs and into Harry's bedroom.

"He's not here," Ginny said, looking around the pristine room, obviously a teenage boy had not stepped near it in a long time.

Pet looked around the empty room. "Where could he be?" she asked, her mind instantly mapping the cozy home.

"Not here," Ron said.

"Thanks for that update," Ginny said sarcastically. "You don't think he ran away, do you?" She scanned the room worriedly, searching for a letter Harry might have left saying goodbye.

"Ginny, don't be stupid. The boy could barely walk when he woke up. I don't think he's up for running away," Ron said, guessing that Harry would be weak after three months of not moving. The four students stood in the bedroom and looked around at the spotless surfaces for a moment before Ron spoke up. "Well, then. Since we're obviously not going to find him here, I think I'll go have a look around the house." He strode out of the room before anyone could stop him. However, that didn't stop Hermione from chasing after him.

"You can't just go sneaking around someone's house!" she hissed, her eyes constantly shifting, taking in the entire hallway.

"I'm not sneaking, I'm walking," Ron pointed out loudly.

"Ron! Shut up!" Hermione said, almost as loudly as Ron She clamped her hand over her mouth and froze. She listened for a moment before chasing after him again. "What if you run into Mrs. and Mr. Potter?" she demanded, her voice back to a whisper.

"Then I'll hide," Ron said nonchalantly, poking his head into a broom cupboard.

"And what if you accidentally walk in on Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" Hermione challenged him.

"Would you two be quiet?" Ginny asked, stepping out of Harry's bedroom. "We can hear you all the way from here!" she said in a loud stage whisper.

"Besides, we think we know where Harry is," Pet said, joining Ginny in the hallway.

"Where?" Hermione asked as she followed Ron to join the two younger girls.

"In the den, downstairs," Pet said decisively.

"If Harry could barely walk when he woke up, I doubt Mr. and Mrs. Potter would have him climbing stairs all the time," Ginny explained. The foursome didn't wait any longer and immediately began walking down the nearby stairs.

Suddenly, there was a loud creak as one of the steps complained about the traffic it had to endure. Ginny and Ron froze, afraid it would make more noise if they moved off it. Hermione stopped a few steps from the bottom and looked around at them. If looks could kill, the creaky step would be dead... that is, if it were alive to begin with. Pet passed the worried trio and continued down the stairs.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the back of the younger girl, exasperated by the younger girl's lack of awareness; she didn't seem to mind one bit that she was making such a racket! Turning back to the problem at hand, she looked anxiously back up the stairs, waiting for the Potters to wake up and yell at them for breaking into Godric's Hollow.

"Cast a silencing charm on it," Ginny encouraged.

"And get expelled for underage magic?! I highly doubt the Ministry would approve rescuing Harry from the evils of bed rest as a life-threatening situation!" Hermione said shrilly, beginning to panic.

"Hermione! Shut up!" Ron hissed. "You've turned seventeen already... or did you forget?"

A look of dawning comprehension Hermione's face, and she silently cast a silencing spell. She wasn't sure it would work on stairs like it did on ravens and toads, but it was worth a try. Ron hesitantly took one foot off the stair. When it made no noise, he placed it onto the stair below it. He then cautiously took the other foot off. Ginny then followed suit. The stair remained silent through the exercise, though Hermione thought that that might not be because of the spell.

Pet rolled her eyes with a smile as she watched them panic over something so miniscule as a creaky step. She turned and walked into the den. She closed the door behind her and smiled wickedly. Walking over to Harry's bed, she began in a sing-song voice, "Oh, rise and shine big brother of mine!" She pulled the covers off of the sleeping lump, exposing him to the chilly room.

Harry groaned and rolled over. He slowly opened his eyes and fumbled around for his glasses. Once he found them, he shoved them clumsily onto his face. "What d'ya wan'?" he mumbled. When Pet came into focus, his eyes bugged out, and he sat up quickly.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten _me_?" Pet asked playfully as she threw her brother a shirt from the floor.

"Pet," Harry guessed.

"Ding, ding, ding!" Pet said, smiling a big, cheesy smile.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Harry asked, quickly putting on the wrinkled blue shirt.

"Rescuing you!" Pet said with a large, flourishing, bow. There were footsteps coming down the stairs and Harry looked at Pet.

"From what?" he asked, a little worried.

"From the boogey man from under your bed…it took him a while since Mum cleared out his landmarks," Pet explained seriously.

Harry rolled his eyes and listened as he thought he heard faint voices, followed by more footsteps.

"Ron and Hermione?" he guessed from the thumping that could only be Ron.

"And Ginny, too," Pet added. "We couldn't very well sit around at school and let Mum and Dad kill you with school work, now could we?"

Harry smiled and walked toward the door, leaving his sister in the room.

Once he was standing at the foot of the stairs, Harry smiled up at his friends. He had really missed them. They didn't notice his presence at first, so Harry took a moment to look at them. They all looked the exact same as he remembered them from his dream, yet there was something slightly different about all of them. They didn't seem as worn or as old as they were in his dream. Apparently the war had taken a larger toll on them in his dream than Harry had noticed.

"So, I hear you guys are here to rescue me," he said with a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lip.

Ginny started as she was walking down the stairs and missed the step down, thereby sending her tumbling down the last few stairs… loudly. Harry stepped forward and helped her stand up. Before sending Harry a curious look, Hermione threw another worried glance up the stairs.

There was a tense moment as Ginny looked into Harry's eyes. She was afraid that she wouldn't see the love in them she had grown accustomed to seeing. But no thoughts of hers could prepare her for what she saw. She watched as Harry's eyes flickered between love, uncertainty, and fear. Didn't he remember her? Would she be mad at him if he didn't? _Of course not,_ Ginny told herself. He would still be Harry, and she would still love him, even if she had to win him over again. Ginny struggled over whether she should flat out ask him if he remembered her or wait until he brought it up. She looked hesitantly at him, looking for a sign, a signal, telling her what to do. Nothing came, and she began to think that despite the relationship they had had, he really had forgotten her and everything they were.

Harry thought of what Sirius had said about her being angry if he forgot her, so he reached out his hand and brushed it softly on her cheek. "I've missed you," he whispered. "All of you," he said a little more loudly, looking at Hermione and Ron.

For a moment, Ginny seemed relieved that he hadn't forgotten her, but then his words sunk in. Harry knew he had said something wrong the moment Ginny put her own two feet underneath herself and stepped away from Harry. "If you missed me so bloody much, then why didn't you reply to any of my owls?" she demanded, her brown eyes flashing.

Harry winced. He knew she had a point. "I'm sorry, really, I am!"

Ginny bit her lip as she watched Harry's reaction to her question. "I'm sorry…" she said quietly. _I'm being too hard on him,_ Ginny told herself. _He woke up a few weeks ago, and now I want everything to be just like it used to be; that's not fair for him._

She smiled weakly at him, looking for reassurance that he wasn't upset with her.

Harry forced a smile. "It's okay, I understand," he said gently.

Ginny seemed to know the smile wasn't completely genuine, but she averted her eyes and ignored it. He was too perfect… even when she was completely out of line he tried to comfort her, Ginny thought morosely. "But you should be mad at me," Ginny told him.

"Why?" Harry asked simply.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was being really thick. Especially since you don't write letters when you're not recovering from a coma," she said with a wry smile.

"Ginny… this doesn't sound anything like you," Harry hazarded. Maybe this was the real Ginny, but he doubted it.

"What do you mean? I yelled at you for something stupid, and now I'm apologizing."

Harry shook his head. "Something's wrong," he said, starting to get annoyed that she wouldn't tell him what was wrong.

"It's been three months, how can you tell if something's wrong? You haven't so much as acknowledged me since you woke up! Maybe this is who I am now!" Ginny cried defiantly, her voice getting louder as she went.

Harry put his finger on her lips.

Ginny closed her mouth reluctantly and looked at him pensively for a moment, trying to look at the situation as objectively as possible. Was this what three months apart did to a relationship? Is this what they were going to do now, snap at each other and only pretend to give forgiveness? He didn't say anything, but she could tell he was upset. And why shouldn't he be upset? _I'm the one doing the snapping_, Ginny reminded herself. Harry was just trying to keep the peace while she was a complete prat. Did they really not know each other well enough to handle a three-month separation? Every year, they separated for summer, for two and a half months. What difference should the extra two weeks make? Just because they hadn't seen each other at all, rather than the regular short visits, she had no reason to be yelling at him like she was. Besides, shouldn't their relationship have just frozen in time while he was unconscious? Ginny hated to think that they couldn't just pick up where they had left off. She should be happy that he's alive and well, but instead she was yelling at him for not sending a stupid letter. This was _not_ how she had imagined their reunion.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked gently, seeing the in the girl's eyes. Ginny tried to look away, but he pulled her chin back around and looked her in the eyes. "You can tell me," he assured her.

"It's nothing," Ginny persisted. _Or, I hope it's nothing,_ Ginny rephrased in her mind.

Harry stared into the chocolate eyes he knew so well. He knew she was upset, but what should he say to her? He didn't _really_ remember Ginny. He only knew what he dreamt her to be like. Were they the same? This Ginny wasn't telling him anything! He tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't say anything. Did he do something wrong? Did she know that he really couldn't remember her?

The two looked at each other, each knowing that the other was not being entirely open or entirely genuine. Yet neither seemed to be too keen on changing that.

Hermione looked down the stairs at the pair and hesitantly broke the heavy silence that had evolved. "Harry, we were worried about you," she said quietly, a slight question in her voice, though she tried to suppress it. Harry and Ginny whipped around. They had forgotten about Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah, mate, it was only because Dumbledore told the students that you would be okay that we knew you were awake," Ron said from behind Hermione. Harry's eyes flickered between the two of them. Were they together like they had been in his dream?

"Hermione, Ron," Harry began. A small smile appeared on Hermione's face while Ron visibly beamed. Harry noticed this and smiled even more widely. "You guys didn't honestly think I'd forget about you, did you?" Hermione and Ron shared a guilty look. "Just because I didn't reply to your letters doesn't mean I'd forgotten you! If I didn't know who on earth you were, I would have sent you a nice Howler. So, no news was good news." Harry laughed, trying to ease the awkwardness, though the hollow laugh did nothing of the sort. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other once again before Hermione looked back to Harry with trepidation.

"Harry, you have to understand..." Harry held up his hand to stop Hermione. This wasn't the time or the place to discuss his failure to send letters. That would have to come with time. Maybe, maybe if he got his memory back he would tell them why he really didn't return their letters. But if he said something now, he'd have to lie to them, and he really didn't want to lie to his best friends. The four looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say. They were saved the trouble when a soft click of a door shutting broke the silence.

"We should be going," Pet said, coming out of Harry's room with a small roll of parchment, ignoring the uncomfortable silence in the hallway. "Mum and Dad might wake up if you guys keep carrying on the way you are," she explained.

"What's that?" Harry asked, motioning toward the small piece of parchment in Pet's hand.

"A note to Mum and Dad saying you wanted to get back to Hogwarts tonight and left via the Knight Bus to Hogsmeade then walked to Hogwarts," Pet said as she walked into the living room. Ron and Hermione followed her, but Harry walked back into his makeshift room. Ginny followed him in.

"I just want to pack my things, tell Pet I'll catch up with you guys in a few minutes," Harry said, his back to the doorway. When he didn't hear her leaving, he added, "Honestly, Ginny, I'm not going to run away. I want to go back to Hogwarts."

"How'd you know it was me? Didn't you lose your memory?" Ginny asked, a slight edge to her voice.

Harry turned around and looked into the girl's warm, brown eyes. "Correction, I lost _part_ of my memory. I could never forget about you," he said softly.

"But how did you know it was me over Ron or Hermione?" Ginny repeated, not allowing herself to fall victim to Harry's soft voice.

"That's my secret," Harry said, smiling, his eyes flicking to the night-darkened window that sat opposite the door in his room. Harry looked at Ginny, and his smile softened to one of simple contentment over enjoyment.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked quietly, sitting on his bed while he began packing his books that were scattered all over the room.

"Nothing," Harry said shaking his head, still smiling.

"And you expect me to believe that?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry picked up his defense against the dark arts book and looked at it in deep thought. After a moment of comfortable silence between the two, Harry looked up at Ginny.

"Do you believe in divination?" he asked seriously, sitting down next to Ginny on the bed after placing the book in his trunk.

Ginny searched Harry's face a moment before replying. "What?"

"Do you think people's dreams could have a deeper meaning or tell the future?" Harry reiterated.

Ginny thought for a moment, trying to understand where Harry was going with the question, before nodding her head solemnly. Harry bit the corner of his lip in thought. "Why?" Ginny pressed gently.

Harry sighed deeply and picked at the quilt on his bed. Ginny took his hand in hers and held it still for a moment. He stared at her small hand. "I still remember my dream like it's real life," he began. Ginny patiently waited for him to keep going. Harry stood up and walked to the window of the room. "And in the dream, I broke up—I mean, I broke a rule, a bad one."

"What's your point?" Ginny asked. "Are you saying you think you're going to break a rule?" she prodded. Her voice lacked all emotion, and Harry couldn't tell if she wanted him to say yes or no to the question.

"No," he said slowly. He turned around and smiled at her as she perched on his bed. "It wasn't exactly a rule..." Harry said, remembering Hermione, in his dream, checking the laws to make sure they could do magic, even if she, Ron, and he had left school before they were of age, so that they could go hunt the horcruxes.

"You realize you are fully capable of deciding against breaking a rule, right?" she asked, smilingly. Harry returned the smile, but didn't say anything. "So what was so horrible that you're worried about a repeat occurrence?"

Harry said nothing, averting his eyes.

"You can trust me," Ginny said encouragingly. When Harry didn't respond, she stood up quickly. "Or did you forget you used to tell me everything?" she asked coldly.

"It's not that," Harry explained meekly. Ginny looked at Harry with a mixture of fury and exasperation.

"Then what is it?"

Harry broke eye contact and went back to picking at his quilt.

"Do you really remember everything?" Ginny asked. Harry briefly glanced up, grateful for the change of topic. At least now he could give her an answer. He didn't _want_ to lie to her, but explaining his dream was definitely the greater of the two evils.

"Yeah," Harry lied quickly.

Ginny looked at him dubiously, but kept going. "Then you know that no matter what rule you broke or will break, I'll always be here for you. Nothing can be so bad as to make me love you any less than I already do," Ginny assured him. Harry looked back at Ginny, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He didn't remember being told someone loved him, especially in such a conversational tone. Should he respond? Should he tell her he loved her too?

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two, a rare occurrence. Finally, Harry started packing again. He pulled a stack of letters from a desk drawer and rifled through them before pulling a couple out and putting them in his trunk.

"So, why didn't you return any of my owls?" Ginny asked, putting the conversation back on something that wasn't about dreams about her boyfriend breaking some unknown, heinous rule.

"Honestly?" Harry asked, looking sheepishly at Ginny, stopping what he was doing.

"No, I think I'd prefer it if you lied to me," she said sarcastically.

"I was..." Harry began, trailing off.

"You were..." Ginny prompted, gesturing with her hands as if drawing words out of her own mouth.

"I was worried..." Harry finally admitted. He began packing things a little more quickly than before.

"About what? Breaking a rule by contacting a girl at school?" Ginny asked, joking. Harry threw her a dark look, and she wiped the smile off of her face. Apparently it was too soon for jokes about his dream.

"No, I figured you'd get mad at me if I didn't seem exactly the same as before the accident," he mumbled to his dress robes as he put them in his trunk.

"I would never get mad over something like that!" Ginny cried indignantly. Harry put his finger to his lips to quiet her while looking at her knowingly. "Okay, maybe I would have been a little upset," Ginny allowed. Harry continued to look at her skeptically. "What do you want me to say? That I would have hated you?" she asked in exasperation.

Harry smiled. "No, that's okay."

"Besides, you have changed," Ginny said nonchalantly, lying down on the bed.

"How so?" Harry asked sharply.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please! Anyone who falls fifty feet from a broom and is knocked unconscious into a bizarre dream for three months is not going to be the same as before."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off, saying, "But who's to say those changes are bad?" She looked at him with a penetrating stare. After a moment, she smirked lightly.

Harry looked at his half-packed trunk, at a loss for words. "We're not getting any packing done," he said, changing topics.

Ginny laughed quietly. "No, I suppose not." She began to help him pack, and before long, Harry and Ginny were dragging his trunk into the living room.

"Took you long enough!" Hermione complained, as she cast an anxious glance at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Ready to go?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, letting his eyes sweep over his home one last time before going to Hogwarts for the year. He gave a slight wave to the house with a small smile playing at his lips. The past couple of weeks in a home he didn't remember had been wonderful. Living with his parents had been a dream come true… from his dream. Harry thought about that for a moment. Was it possible to have dreams in dreams? _No matter,_ Harry decided. This was his home now, and he would miss it. Harry half-thought about running around the house and memorizing the look and feel of every room in the small home, but figured that would be a big giveaway to the fact that he didn't _actually_ have his memory back. So he restrained himself and happily reminded himself that he would be back for Christmas break... assuming he did come home for holidays.

"I'll go first," Hermione offered. Pet grabbed the pot of floo powder off of the mantle and offered it to Hermione. She took a pinch of the shiny powder and threw it onto the glowing embers in the Potters' fireplace. Instantly, there was a rush of green flames. She cast one last uneasy glance toward the empty staircase before smiling at the teenagers around her. "It's a small miracle we weren't caught, you know. Just don't botch it after I'm gone," she said, relief evident in her voice. She then stepped into the flames and quietly called out, "Killen's office, Hogwarts."

The remaining four teenagers quickly followed suit and disappeared in the flames.

"Bye, Harry," Lily whispered to the empty fireplace from her position in the kitchen doorway. "Have fun at school."

"Good luck," James said, his hands blindly folding a familiar piece of flowing silver material.

AN: Wow, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. Life's been hectic and my amazing beta and I have been working hard to make it the best it can be. I hope it was worth it 

Now, I'd just like to quickly say thank you for all the amazing reviews I got for chapter 4. How about a repeat performance ?

What's coming up next? Well, Harry's been rescued from home. Where's the logical place for him to go? That's right  Hope to see y'all there!

K


	6. Chapter 6

"He's back!"

Harry groaned as he was rudely awakened to a bright light as the curtains were ripped open. He squinted his eyes until he adjusted to the light in the room, and he realized that it really wasn't that bright. The sun was just at that perfect angle that hit his face square on. He grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand and smiled tiredly at the boys crowding around his bed.

"Harry!" Dean cried. "Good to see you, mate!"

"Likewise," Harry said in the middle of a yawn.

"So, you remember us?" Seamus asked.

"O' course," Harry replied, kicking his feet over the side of the bed. He began to dress as his dorm-mates filled him in on what had been going on.

"…and Slytherin's beating us in house points by about a hundred…"

"The Ravenclaw team looks really amazing this year, you'll have to watch out for them…"

"And I never got to say anything, but what a catch!" Dean interrupted as the five boys began to descend the stairs. Harry looked at Dean. The boy hadn't been this friendly in his dream. Were he and Ginny back together? Harry's stomach churned at the idea. Ginny wouldn't cheat on him, would she? He was unconscious for almost four months.

"Erm, thanks," Harry said, a little unsure. He didn't really want to delve into his catch, especially since he didn't remember it.

"Well, I've got to go finish a Charms essay. I'll see you around, Harry," Seamus said, giving Harry a friendly wave. Dean followed him, leaving Ron, Neville, and Harry.

"Shall we get to breakfast, then?" Ron prodded, as his stomach gave a mighty growl. Neville and Harry laughed and followed the redhead out of the room.

Harry walked next to Ron. Neville, who was a half a step behind the other two, was talking to the half-turned Ron about the new DADA professor.

"He's such a git! He gave us a three foot essay about what we've learned in six years of defense classes on the first day!" Ron complained, facing Harry.

"But he had a point, our teachers haven't been exactly consistent," Neville argued. Harry turned back to look at Neville. Since when did he sound so sure of himself?

"But he gave us homework!" Ron repeated.

"He's also taught us loads in the past few weeks," Neville reasoned. Harry was taking the conversation in, and before he noticed where he was, Ron was opening the door to the Great Hall. Harry hesitated and rocked back on his heels.

"Harry?" Ron asked, abandoning his repetitive argument with Neville.

Harry took a deep breath. This was the part he hated most about waking up and leaving the hospital wing. As soon as he walked through those doors, the whispers would begin. People would stare at him; the Slytherins would make fun of him. He knew the drill all too well, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Harry?" Ron repeated, looking concernedly at his friend. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, forcing a smile. Ron looked at him, unconvinced, and led the way into the Great Hall.

Harry took a step into the room with his head held high, preparing himself to ignore all the comments and stares, but he couldn't help but look around. He really hadn't noticed anything. There were a couple of fingers pointing at Harry, but they were mainly little kids, and that was to be expected. But to Harry's amazement and relief, the Slytherins kept eating, only pausing to glance murderously at him.

Ron followed his gaze and laughed. "They're still really mad that you took the Quidditch cup from them last year… again."

A few students smiled in welcome at him, but for the most part, Harry's return was ignored.

"Good catch, Harry!" a younger student called out. Harry smiled at the kid, recognizing him as Colin Creevey. "I've got pictures!" the boy exclaimed.

Harry couldn't help but laugh, as he took his seat between Ron and Neville.

"Morning," Pet said, rubbing her eyes.

"She wanted to sit with us today, since Harry's back," Ginny explained to Ron.

"Morning all," Harry responded, helping himself to a few pancakes.

"We've got double potions first thing," Hermione told Harry. "Professor Snape said we're going to be brewing a NEWT level potion today."

"That git's still here?" Harry asked, glancing toward the staff table where, sure enough, Snape was drinking a cup of tea. He wanted nothing more than to yell for all of the Great Hall to hear that Snape was going to betray and kill Dumbeldore. It had been in his dream, and just about everything else was true, so why shouldn't this be too? _But Dumbledore's still alive,_ Harry reasoned with himself. _Maybe I just made that bit up because he's such an unfair teacher…yeah, that must be it. _

"Yeah…" Ron said slowly. "Why would he leave?"

"Because he knows the students hate him, and he decided to be nice once and relieve us of the torture his presence brings?" Pet offered from behind her mug of tea.

"How's he getting along with Killen?" Harry asked, helping himself to some pumpkin juice.

"All right, I suppose… why?" Ginny responded.

"No reason," Harry shrugged. Maybe Snape wasn't really evil, and he just made it all up, even the Dark Mark on the professor's arm.

Ginny looked at Harry suspiciously before returning to her toast.

There was a rush of wings above the students' heads and everyone automatically looked toward the ceiling, hoping for a letter. Harry wasn't surprised to see a tawny owl land in Hermione's plate, a _Daily Prophet_ secured in its beak. Hermione threw a couple of Knuts into the small leather pouch and unrolled the paper. Harry watched apprehensively, as she scanned the first page. She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything before flipping to the next page.

Harry tilted his head to get a better view of the front page. He clenched his fists when he saw a glittering picture of the Dark Mark.

"How many?" he asked grimly. "Hermione," he prompted when she failed to respond. "How many this time?"

"Sorry? How many what?" Hermione asked from behind her paper.

"How many were killed?"

"Gee, what a cheerful breakfast conversation," Pet said sarcastically.

"Well, I want to know what's going on outside our home safe home!" Harry defended. He turned back to Hermione. "Well?"

"No one," Hermione replied, perplexed. "No, the _Prophet_'s just making a joke of you and Dumbledore again.

Harry groaned inwardly; would it never end? Here it was, almost two and a half years after Voldemort had come back to life, and they _still_ didn't believe him? How was this possible?

"The Order's doing everything they can," Ginny whispered in his ear, seeing his look of anguish. "Soon, they'll stop him, and no one will even remember they used to think you were off your rocker."

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. He opened his mouth to tell her how that _couldn't_ get rid of Voldemort without him, but he decided against it and took another swallow of pumpkin juice.

"What? Am I wrong?" Ginny challenged.

Harry said nothing, and Ginny returned to her breakfast with a small, smug smile on her face.

"Besides, you don't want me writing to Mum, telling her that you're trying to be a part of the war, do you?" Pet asked.

"But I have to be a part of this war!" Harry insisted.

"According to Mum, you're going to stay away from anything and everything war-related. And face it, you don't exactly have the best track record…" Pet retorted.

Harry looked around to his friends wordlessly. In his dream, they had always been eager to help him work for the war. Would they be like that now?

Ron simply became very interested in seeing how many muffins he could fit into his large mouth.

"Really, it doesn't make sense that a seventeen-year-old boy is going to defeat some ultra-evil dark lord, now does it?" Hermione asked. Harry had to agree with her, but the prophecy had said that _he_ was the one to vanquish the dark lord!

Harry turned to Ginny. She shrugged. "I can't pretend that I'm upset with your mum for keeping you safe. I prefer my boyfriend to be in one piece and breathing, thank you."

Harry's mouth gaped. "But if you were in my position, you'd be a force to be reckoned with, never mind what your mum says to you!" he argued.

"But your mum isn't my mum. She's a very nice woman with a good balance between over-protection and fiery fight. She won't keep you off of a broomstick just because you fell once. My mum would have," Ginny replied.

Harry stomach dropped a few feet as he thought about getting back on a broom… not the part of coming back to Hogwarts he was looking forward to.

"Look, it really doesn't matter what Ron or Hermione thinks, and it doesn't matter what Ginny would do in your situation. The fact of the matter is Mum would kill you if you tried to fight in the war. You nearly died when you fell off your broom… heck, we still don't know why you didn't! And that sent Mum to pieces! Stay safe, for her sake if not for your own," Pet said quietly, lowering her voice so that only she and her brother could hear the last part. Harry nodded his head solemnly, pushing his syrup-sodden pancakes around on his plate.

The group finished their breakfasts in silence, and when the bell rang, they began to part.

"Ginny," Harry said quietly. Ginny stopped and turned around looking expectant. Harry kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Sorry I snapped earlier," he mumbled in her ear.

"Oh, I suppose I'll forgive you." Ginny laughed.

"Have fun in potions!" Pet called brightly as she waved her brother off. He rolled his eyes at her as she met up with a few of her friends.

Harry walked half a step behind his friends to the dungeons. _Why did they have to come get me right before potions? Couldn't they have waited another day?_ Harry thought, as he dragged his feet on the cold stone floor.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, welcome back," Snape sneered as the foursome walked into the damp classroom.

"I wouldn't miss your class for the world," Harry said sarcastically.

Snape ignored this comment and went back to writing something on a piece of parchment. Harry tried to read what it was, but the man quickly placed his arm over the words that were already written.

_Probably a report for Voldemort,_ Harry thought to himself.

He went to sit next to Ron, but found Hermione already setting her stuff on the desk. Harry went to put his stuff on the other side of Ron, but Neville called him over. "Harry, over here!"

Harry walked uncertainly over to Neville, who was sitting at the desk next to Hermione and Ron's.

"Today, class," Snape announced in his usual quiet voice. "You will be preparing Veristaserum." Several students bit the corner of their lips and looked at their partners apprehensively. Other students, like Malfoy, Harry noticed, looked excited. Snape seemed to notice this as well, because he made an extra announcement, "You will be turning in your entire cauldron's worth this time. You are not allowed to take any from this room." A muttering went around the room.

Harry looked at Snape, whose cold eyes rested on Harry. The young wizard couldn't help but shiver. He had a feeling he may be drinking some of this potion at some point.

Twenty minutes into the class, Harry looked dubiously into his cauldron. It looked awfully gloopy to become the clear liquid it was supposed to be at the end.

Harry tried to look at Hermione's cauldron, but Ron stood in the way. Getting desperate, he craned his neck, trying to see if anyone else had such a lumpy potion; no one did. In his search for a lumpy potion, Harry caught Malfoy's eye as the boy walked past Harry's desk to get a few more salamander eyes. On the return trip, the Slytherin sneered at Harry, causing him to laugh.

"Oh, you're just upset because I survived," Harry said quietly. "I bet your daddy's boss was worried about that!"

Malfoy looked at Harry, perplexed and paused in his return to the simmering cauldron across the room.

"What, no witty comeback?" Harry asked, slightly confused.

"Mr. Potter, do not interrupt my class again. Ten points from Gryfindor," Snape said quietly from his desk.

Harry closed his mouth and went back to bringing his concoction to a simmer. He saw Ron looking at him quizzically but shook his head. He didn't really feel like telling his friends that he had lied and really didn't remember everything yet.

Finally, Harry was putting the finishing touches on his potion and was just about to turn the flame off, when Snape peered at the cloudy liquid. Harry jumped at the sudden presence of the professor. _How does he walk so darn quietly?_ Harry thought as his heartrate returned to normal. Snape's lip curled slightly, and Harry wiped his brow proudly. His potion, for once, looked pretty reasonable. It was far from being clear, but it _was _colorless, at least. His mum had been a pretty good potions teacher. As far as Harry knew, Snape had no reason to _not_ give Harry full marks for the day.

"What's this?" Snape asked, scooping up a bit of potion and dumping it back into the cauldron.

"Veristaserum," Harry replied with a smile, unable to contain his pride for his job well done for a change. He chanced a look at Ron's cauldron. Ron's potion was a lumpy green mess. Malfoy's wasn't much better, either. It had the right consistency, but it was a light pink instead of colorless.

"Really?" Snape asked, his brow arching.

"Yes," Harry said as confidently as he could manage.

"Then do tell me, what was the third step of the potion?"

Harry's eyes flickered to the chalkboard. He couldn't remember the exact wording… and honestly, who would?

"No, no, I'm afraid that won't do. Clearly, you cheated. Tell me, does it feel nice to know you can copy Granger?" he sneered.

"But I didn't cheat! I studied while I was at home!" Harry protested.

"Like your mudblood mother could teach you potions. Her professor might have liked her _charm_, but she was hardly any better in Potions than Weasely, here," Snape said quietly in Harry's ear. Harry clenched his fists, but managed to keep his temper in check.

"So that will be… let's see here, insubordination and cheating…. Shall we say a nice twenty points off?" Snape said with a cold smile on his lips.

Harry glared at his professor, but refused to give the man satisfaction by yelling.

Snape pulled his robes closer to himself and made to move towards the front of the room. In the process of maneuvering around Harry's desk, though, he _accidentally_ knocked Harry's cauldron to the ground.

"Too bad, Potter. _Evanesco!_ Looks like no points for today. Perhaps you ought to secure your cauldron better next time," the man said acidly before returning to his desk.

"Now, the rest of you bring up the potions you have brewed for testing." There was a flurry of movement, and Harry moodily packed his cauldron away.

He stood up and waited for Ron and Hermione to return from turning their potion into Snape for grading. "Can you believe that git?" Harry growled as the trio left the classroom (Neville had already left, claiming to have to meet up with someone).

"Pardon?" Hermione asked, shifting her bag to her other shoulder.

"Snape!" Harry cried exasperatedly.

"Are you talking about when he knocked over your cauldron?" Ron asked, thinking back to the class.

"Oh, so you did notice?" Harry asked. "Then tell me, how can he get away with acting like such a prick?"

"He just knocked your cauldron over, I don't think he meant anything by it…" Hermione said.

"How can you say that? He's a D-"

"Potter!"

Harry turned around and faced his least favorite teacher. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, a little concerned about Harry's unnatural behavior.

"The headmaster would like to see you in his office… now."

Harry turned around without a word and looked at his friends. He gave a small wave. "I'll see you two around, then."

They nodded their heads before continuing on to their next class, clasping hands in the process of turning around. Snape peered at the holding hands with distaste before sweeping back into his room to prepare for his next class.

What could Dumbledore possibly want with him already? He hadn't done anything to get into trouble… yet. Maybe Dumbledore just wanted to make sure that Harry really did remember everything and was really back at school. Harry's stomach lurched as his feet echoed off of the stone floors. What if Dumbledore performed legilimency on him? Harry cursed himself for not practicing occlumency more. But Dumbledore wasn't the kind of wizard to perform legilimency on 17-year-old boys, right? Then, it hit him. Maybe Dumbledore knew where another horcrux was and had simply been waiting for Harry to recover before going out and destroying it. That would mean that they were one step closer to the final battle. Harry was at once excited that it would be over soon and nervous that the battle would be here so soon. He was just a teenager!

Harry's mind went around in circles for several minutes as his feet carried him to the headmaster's office. When Harry looked up, he saw the two stone gargoyles and thought about the password last time he was here.

"Erm… Chocolate Frogs?" Harry guessed. Apparently, he guessed wrongly, because the gargoyles remained stationary. "Sugar Quills?" Again, the statues didn't move. "Pumpkin Pasties? Licorice Wands? Cauldron Cakes?" Harry started desperately guessing. "For crying out loud!" he cried in frustration. "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum? Mars Bars?" Harry continued to guess wildly. Finally, the gargoyles moved. "Mars Bars?" Harry asked, startled. He shook his head and stepped onto the stairs. Once Harry got to the top of the stairs, he was surprised to see the office door wide open. But even more surprising was the people in the office. He saw a glimpse of the room before a mass of red hair attacked him.

"Harry James Potter… you should have left a note!"

"Erm… sorry mum," Harry mumbled. Why were his parents here if Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about the horcruxes?

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "So where's the next horcrux? Is it Hufflepuff's cup? The locket? Did you find something of Gryfindor's?"

Harry saw James raise an eyebrow at Dumbledore. He didn't like the way Lily bit her lip either.

"Actually, Harry, I just thought your parents would like to properly say goodbye to you," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh…"

"You left in the middle of the night," James said. Harry smiled guiltily. "We were quite worried about you." Harry was surprised James didn't seem angrier.

"Sorry?" Harry said, unsure if that was what his parents wanted him to say.

"You should be!" Lily cried.

"Well, erm, I'm going back to Hogwarts, so bye?" Harry tried.

"Goodbye dear!" Lily said, engulfing Harry in another hug. "Have a good term."

"So, you came all the way to Hogwarts just to say goodbye?" Harry asked, trying to understand the logic in his parents' actions. Lily beamed and nodded her head.

"We're going shopping in Hogsmeade, too," James explained. Harry nodded his head in understanding.

"Speaking of which, James, we should get going," Lily said, looking at her watch.

"All right, bye, Harry," James said, shaking Harry's hand.

"'Bye sweetie!" Lily said.

Lily squeezed Harry tightly before walking towards the door. James moved to follow her, but he paused next to Harry and leaned over, clapping his son on the shoulder. "You might want to tell your friends they need to work on their stealth if they plan on pursuing a career of rescuing friends from bed rest," he murmured with a smile. "Oh, and remind Pet that if she's going to forge a note from you, she ought to not leave in her pocket and take it with her."

Harry stared at James, worried that he'd tell Dumbledore that four students had been off of the grounds last night. James winked at his son and followed his wife out of the office.

Once his parents left and Harry managed to shove what James had said to the back of his mind, Harry turned to Dumbledore. "So, you don't know about another horcrux?"

"To answer your question, I do not. But how is it that you know about the horcruxes? If my memory serves me correctly, though it is apt not to in my increasing age, I did not tell you about such things," Dumbledore said, confused. Harry was taken aback for a moment at the wizard's amused smile, but quickly decided it was just Dumbledore's ever-present smile.

Harry grappled in his mind for something to say. He couldn't have made something like that up in his dream… and be correct about it.

"What do you mean you never told me about them, sir?"

"I mean I never discussed the war effort with you. Nor do I plan to," he said, sounding a bit resentful as he glanced towards the door to the stairwell.

"But you have to! The prophecy says that _I'm_ the only one that can defeat Voldemort!" Harry cried, frustrated.

"Mr. Potter, I have no doubt that you're a capable wizard, but you are still a student and your parents do not want you taking part in this war."

"But sir!"

"I believe you are missing class right now, Mr. Potter?"

Harry gaped at the wizened wizard for a moment. How could he know what the prophecy say and still keep Harry in the dark? It wasn't fair!

"Harry," Dumbledore prompted.

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled before turning around and beginning to exit the room. Just before he walked out, he turned around. "Though, you may want to rethink your priorities. Because whether you want to admit it or not, you need me in this war."

Harry turned back around and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. He ran down the stairs and headed toward history of magic. He had to tell Ron and Hermione about Dumbledore's foolish stubbornness. They'd help him figure out the horcruxes. They may have been against it this morning, but they'd come around. And if they wouldn't come around, then he'd just have to figure out the horcruxes himself. But whatever it took, Harry was going to end this stupid war, his way.

AN: I know it's been about forever since my last update, but I'm not going to apologize or give an explanation, those are wastes of time. I'm just going to say that my life's been a little off kilter lately.

**So, I'd just like to say thank you to all the wonderful reviews. I can't say how much I appreciate them. Each one brings a smile to my face and brightens my day by a few watts, and so for that relief in my life, I thank you. So let's keep the amazing numbers of reviews coming on this chapter, and I'll try to get the next chapter out a little more promptly.**

**On that note, what's coming up next chapter? A bunch of little scenes with several pairs of characters. One of which will answer a question I'm sure many of you are asking. What that question is, think about what you just read, yup, that nagging question, that's probably it! (but no garuntees :) If you're not sure if your question will be answered, go ahead and leave it in your review, and I'll get back to you, though no garuntees you'll like the answer :) )**

'**Til Next time!!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Thank you for coming, considering you were just here yesterday," the old man said as the young couple stepped into the room. "Please, have a seat." The young couple glanced at each other and sat down.

"What is it?" Lily asked after a moment's silence.

"It's about Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. Lily opened her mouth, but Dumbledore stopped her by raising his hand. "He's fine. But I do think you ought to consider letting him play the role he is destined to have in this war," he said seriously.

James quickly looked to Lily, waiting for her reaction before saying anything. Lily's jaw dropped, and she was left speechless.

"Sir… I don't think that that's a good idea," James said slowly. "He's just a boy."

"However, he is no ordinary boy. After all, he did survive the killing curse, and that is not ordinary. We all know that the prophecy is about him. Now we have to allow him to fulfill his destiny."

"He can't!" Lily cried, tears glistening in her eyes. "He's my son. That prophecy can't be about him!" She had spent the past sixteen years trying to forget about the night Dumbledore had suggested that Harry may have _greatness in store, greatness that may mean freedom from the evils in our world._ But now he was bringing it up again. She had said sixteen years ago, she had said it again six years ago, and now she'd say it again: he was just Harry, a nice, simple boy that would grow up and live a nice and normal life. Greatness was for legendary wizards such as Dumbledore, Gryffindor, and Merlin, not her son!

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He stood up and walked over to the cabinet in the corner of his office. James watched, interested, as the old wizard pulled out a pensive and laid it on the desk.

"Listen again," Dumbledore prompted. He tapped the shimmering surface with his wand. A bejeweled woman with very large glasses rose out of the bowl.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…._

_"How many times have you defied Voldemort?" Dumbledore questioned._

"Three," Lily said, hanging her head, knowing that the prophecy had to be about Harry. The description fit perfectly… except for the power mentioned at the end.

"And when was Harry born?"

"End of July."

"And did Voldemort mark Harry?"

"The scar," Lily said quietly. "But sir, what about the '_power the Dark Lord knows not'? Harry has been nothing but a perfectly normal boy!"_

_"Ah, but he has shown some very interesting abilities. He is fiercely loyal and has very strong friendships, something Tom never quite managed. And, in fourth year, as you know, he was able to throw off the Imperius curse. I know of very few people who can do that. And of course, there is always the possibility that Harry has not developed his special power as of yet."_

_Lily looked at Dumbledore, begging with her eyes that what he said wasn't true. "But if he needs this 'special power' to defeat him, then surely Harry would have shown it by now. I think you have Harry mistaken for someone else," Lily said assertively, at least, that was what she hoped._

_"Lily, Harry is the one. Trust me, I've seen things, and I know that Harry will be the one to do the job I cannot."_

_Lily looked at Dumbledore quizzically while James continued to look blankly at Dumbledore, simply trying to take it all in. _

_"It's his destiny, and I for one will not stand in the way of destiny," Dumbledore said quietly. Lily hung her head. She couldn't think of anything to say to that. She didn't like what he was saying, but nor could she argue with his logic._

"I know you don't like it, Lily," Dumbledore began kindly, "But my end is coming."

Lily's head shot up, and James' eyes widened.

"I am proud, but not so prideful to pretend that I am not mortal. I will not last through this war. And when I am gone, Harry will need to step up and be who he was destined to be. The Horcruxes will need to be destroyed, and Tom will need to be killed. I don't like the idea of this falling on Harry's shoulders, but it has to. I've respected your wishes these past six years and have told him nothing. But I must implore you to change your mind now."

The three adults looked at the smoky figure of Sybill Trelawney.

"Can't we wait until after Harry's out of school?" James asked.

"If I am correct, and Harry is the one who is to defeat Riddle, then I must start teaching him now. There is much he needs to learn."

James looked to his wife. Tears were seeping onto her cheeks. "Lily," he started.

Lily glared at Dumbledore. "Look, I don't care what you think! You're obviously not positive that it really is Harry that has to be a part of this war. And until you are absolutely positive that Sybill meant Harry in her prophecy, I will not have you filling Harry's head with horrible stories. He's a boy, and I don't want him to have to face this world we live in until it's absolutely necessary."

There was a stunned silence following Lily's outburst.

"I forbid you to bring Harry into this war," Lily said, standing up. She left the office, slamming the door behind her.

"I'll talk to her," James offered.

"I suggest you do. I shudder to think what would happen if I die before Harry understands the full scope of this war," Dumbledore said ominously.

James looked uneasily at the wizard before following his wife out the door. She was sitting on the spiral staircase, tears running down her face. She looked up at her husband.

"It can't be him," she said, shaking her head.

"Sweetie, it is him," James said softly, sitting down next to his wife.

"No…" Lily said, burying her face in James' shoulder.

"Think about it," James prompted.

"But he's my baby!"

"Yeah, but he's also 'the boy who lived', and soon he will be the boy that killed the Dark Lord."

"But he's Harry!"

"I know, but he is of age now. Let him decide…."

"Of course he'll want to fight! Ever since he woke up, the war is all he talks about!"

---

"What do you want _me_ to do about it?" Pet asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Talk to him for me, please," Ginny asked, her eyes begging the younger girl.

"He's your boyfriend!" Pet protested, scribbling an answer on the homework she had been working on before Ginny burst into the common room and interrupted her.

"And he's your brother. I'm tired of asking him about normal things and him asking about the war. What happened to him?"

"What do you mean?" Pet asked, turning around and scrutinizing the red head.

"He never used to talk about the war, and now it's all he talks about. He's always in the library, looking up something called Horcruxes…. It's just not like him." Ginny sighed. She leaned back in the overstuffed chair and stared into the flames. "Look, you two were always so close…. Maybe he'll listen to you. Lord knows he won't listen to me." She threw her hands up and rubbed her face.

"You're worried about him," Pet guessed, ignoring the comment about Harry listening to her. _Not anymore,_ she though bitterly.

"Of course I'm worried about him! He's obsessed. I don't want to lose him…" Ginny said, blinking back tears. "I don't know how to talk to him anymore! It's like he's a different person."

"What makes you think I can change him? What makes you think I _want_ to change him?" Pet challenged.

Ginny looked at the younger girl, speechless. She had expected to walk in here, talk to Pet, and come out assured that Harry was acting perfectly normal and that his parents had told him to grow up, and Ginny had simply missed that conversation. But that was a far cry from the direction the conversation was going.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm worried about him, too. But we _are_ in a war, and you have to admit, he has a point. Maybe it's time we look at what's going on in the real world. We can't stay in Hogwarts forever. You have only two more years, and Harry's just got one. After this year, the world becomes his reality. Worrying about detention will be a puny concern after he lives in the world our parents live in."

"…Pet?" Ginny looked worriedly at the younger girl. Since when did the happy-go-lucky Potter girl get so serious… and morbid?

Pet growled and flung her quill across the room. "I'm tired of playing devil's advocate. I hate the way Harry's become. He hardly says more than 'good morning' to me. But I don't think we're going to get our old Harry back."

The girls looked at each other in silence for a moment. There had to be a way; there always was.

"Can't you just talk to him?" Ginny asked, as though suggesting the obvious.

"Don't you think I want to? Harry and I _used_ to be really close! Not anymore. Ever since he woke up, he hasn't been the same. You haven't noticed half of it. At least he still talks to you!" Pet cried in frustration. She stared angrily at her quill that she had hurled across the common room.

"Yeah—about the bloody war! Besides, you have Quidditch with him. That's time you spend with him when he's not focused on the war," Ginny reasoned, her chocolate brown eyes flashing with stubbornness. She didn't like this new Harry; she wanted Harry to be like he used to be. Pet _could_ talk to Harry, and she _would_.

"I haven't seen him so much as _look_ at his Firebolt since the accident."

---

"That's so unlike him," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Gee, you think?" Ron retorted.

"Although… that was quite a nasty fall. Maybe he's just scared he'll get knocked out for nearly four months again," Hermione proposed.

"Or maybe he really doesn't remember anything. Maybe he thinks this is all another stupid dream."

"But he remembers us," Hermione challenged.

"Okay, a dream with his best mates."

"But then why did he act so vehemently against Malfoy?" Hermione asked, almost to herself.

"Because he's a git?"

"No, Ron, I'm serious! Think about what Harry's been like since he came back to school. Has he been acting himself?"

"No… but like you said, maybe he was really bothered by that fall," Ron said, refusing to believe that Harry, his best mate since first year, had changed.

Hermione looked sympathetically at Ron. "I know you don't want to hear it, but he _has_ changed. Just look at how obsessed he is with the war!" Ron looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. He didn't want to be hypocritical, but he had to know.

"Did you ever figure out what a Horcrux is?" Ron asked.

Hermione paused before nodding her head hesitantly and rifling through her bag that was sitting next to her. She looked at the book in her hand with a grimace. "This was all I could find. It isn't much, but you can see why the library doesn't have many books on the subject." Ron took the heavy book from her. "It was in the restricted section," Hermione explained when Ron looked revolted by the title.

Ron opened the book to the marked page. When he was done reading the passage, he looked up at Hermione, his face quickly losing color.

"You don't think Harry wants to do this, do you?" he asked.

"No, no, no. Don't be silly," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "But he does claim that that's how he-who-must-not-be-named survived the rebounded killing curse."

"How does he know that?" Ron asked.

"I suppose it makes sense…" Hermione said thoughtfully, leaning into Ron to get a better look at the text.

"You know…" Ron mumbled into Hermione's hair. "We're becoming just like him: absolutely obsessed with this stupid war that's not even in full swing yet."

Hermione laid her head on Ron's shoulder and let it roll back, hitting the cold stone wall of the common room. "What are we going to do about him?" she asked with a sigh.

"Let him go?" Ron asked. "I mean, what can we do? He's stubborn."

"But we can't let him give up everything he loves for a war he's not even supposed to fight!"

"He still talks to us," Ron said.

"Yeah… but he's been ignoring Pet, giving your sister the cold shoulder, and like you said, he hasn't so much as looked at his broom since the accident."

"But I thought you didn't like Pet," Ron said, choosing to ignore everything else Hermione had said.

"I…I never said that! Besides, that's not the point," Hermione said with an impatient wave. "I don't want Harry to leave his sister on the line. They used to be so close, and now they hardly ever talk!"

"I'll ambush him tonight when he comes to bed," Ron offered.

"Where is he, anyway?" Hermione asked. "We never see him anymore."

"I don't know. Maybe he's stopped talking to us too."

"He has gone missing an awful lot lately," Hermione said thoughtfully.

---

It was waiting for him, locked in the cupboard. Someone must have put it away last year. He reached out with a shaking hand and held it while he tapped the lock with his wand. The chains fell away, and the weight of the broom fell into his hand. He jerked away, and the glossy broom fell to the floor.

_I have to do this; the match is next week. The team is counting on me_, he told himself firmly.

Trying to be as careful as possible, he bent down and picked up the broom. As though afraid it would explode in his hands, he gingerly held it in front of him and walked onto the pitch. The darkened stands ominously loomed above him. He imagined them full of people, waiting for him to mount his broom.

Harry shook his head and dropped the broom. He walked around in agitated circles for a minute, trying to shake the nerves that had suddenly taken control of his body. Flying had always been the escape from his fear. Why was it all of a sudden the cause of his fear?

Images of him falling fifty feet from the air flashed in his mind.

_That was a dream,_ he roughly told himself.

_If it was a dream, then why are you scared of flying? And why did it hurt so badly? You don't get hurt in dreams. _Harry shook his head. Arguing with himself was making his head hurt.

The cool night breeze breathed over the pitch, and Harry shivered. It was a chilly evening, but not cold enough to warrant his shiver.

Harry bit his lip, gathered all the resolve he had, and picked up the broom. He held onto it, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. Without giving himself another moment to think, Harry mounted the broom and kicked off of the ground. He felt the wind rush in his hair as he kicked harder than he had intended to. His heart hammered in his chest, and his eyes widened in fear.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't fly. He started pushing the broom downward, to the safe solidarity of the ground. When he was about four feet off of the ground, he rolled off of the broom, and just lay there, panting. What had he been thinking? He couldn't fly again!

_But I have to. I can't keep running from this._ Harry stood up and walked over to his broom, which was hovering a few feet off of the ground. He grasped it a little too firmly, and it vibrated.

He looked up to the castle; his eyes scanned the dark towers and found the glowing windows he thought were to the Gryffindor Tower. He had to do this… for the team.

Harry mounted the broom again and gently pushed off of the ground. _Once I get going, I'll be okay,_ Harry reassured himself. He hovered in the air for a moment, just a few feet off of the ground. He willed his hands to stop shaking; they refused.

He slowly leaned forward, and the broom inched forward.

_I can do this!_ Harry told himself. _Just once around…nice and easy._

He pushed himself a little faster; he could now feel a slight breeze pushing his unruly hair out of his face. His hands started shaking more and more violently. His grip on the broom became tighter and tighter. He had to do this. If he didn't fly now, he may never fly again.

But about a quarter of the way around the pitch, Harry flew low enough to put his feet on the ground. He walked a few steps before stopping the broom completely and dismounting. He looked at his hands; they were shaking worse than he'd ever seen.

His green eyes raked over the hovering broom. He couldn't let his fear get the better of him. He had to keep trying! He reached out for the broom, but once again, the sight of him falling fifty feet through the air flashed through his mind, this time accompanied with the sound of a sickening crunch as his body hit the ground. Harry gasped and stepped back. He felt the color drain from his face. He couldn't do it. He couldn't fly….

_I'll try again when I calm down,_ Harry told himself. _I'll just put the broom away, go to the castle, and get some homework done._ Harry grabbed the broom and carefully locked it back in the broom cupboard, trying to make sure no one could tell he had taken it out.

Harry walked back into the castle, his shaking hands finally calming down. He glanced in a mirror that was hanging on the wall and was startled to see his face. It was pale and sweaty. He was forcibly reminded of how it looked at the end of fourth year, when Cedric had been murdered.

_What's going on?_ Harry asked himself. _Why can't I fly? Why is nothing the way I remember it?_ Somehow, through his spinning mind, Harry found his way up to the common room.

"You won't forget to talk to him tonight?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Talk to who?" Harry asked as he walked in.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione asked. She stood up abruptly and rushed to Harry's side. She put her hand to his cheek. "You're freezing!"

"Nightmare," Harry said, shrugging. "I fell asleep under the tree by the lake and had a nightmare."

"So that's where you were?" Ron asked curiously, casually joining his friends by the portrait hole.

"Yeah, is that a problem? Am I supposed to check in with you guys or something?" Harry asked, immediately getting defensive.

"Harry, we were worried about you!" Hermione cried, trying to mollify her short-tempered friend.

Harry sighed. "Sorry…. I'm just a little stressed. The teachers want me to do a lot of make-up work even though my mum had me working while I was at home. It's a lot to do."

"And you've got a Quidditch match coming up," Ron reminded him.

"What?" Harry asked, whipping his head around.

"You have a game in a week to get ready for. Have you had practice yet?"

"Oh, no, not yet. I was going to post something calling practice on Wednesday," Harry said absently, moving to the chairs and pulling out Hermione's potions book. "What was the essay supposed to be on?"

"Moonstones, and that's not the point," Hermione said. "Harry, you know I don't want Quidditch to come between your studies, but-"

"But don't you think you need a few more practices than ONE before a game? We haven't all played together since last year's final match," Ron pointed out. "And that didn't exactly end well, did it?" A bitter scowl rested on Ron's face as he remembered the pitiful game played before Harry's fall.

"Ron," Hermione said warningly.

Harry's eyes clouded over as he looked directly at Ron. "Yeah, I fell and nearly died. But that wasn't the team's fault. It was mine. Drop it. As for the not practicing, Pet said that you have been practicing, and since the Seeker is a completely separate part of the game from everyone else, it's not big deal if you don't practice with me," Harry said tersely.

"Harry," Ron began.

"Drop it," Harry repeated.

"I just wanted to say-"

"Forget it! I'm going to bed. I'll see you two at breakfast," Harry said loudly. He turned around and began striding towards the dormitory. "Oh," he said, turning halfway around. He gave a quick glance around the empty common room before quietly continuing. "Did you guys find anything on the war that could be useful in finding the Horcruxes?"

"Harry!" Hermione cried exasperatedly. "This war is not your problem! You forget about the war, and we'll forget about your lack of Quidditch, okay?"

"The war _is_ my problem," Harry said quietly. "It's more my problem than it is Dumbledore's, though he refuses to admit it. But I'll just do it myself. Goodnight."

With that, Harry turned on his heel and stormed up to the dormitory. "Testy, isn't he?" Ron commented tiredly.

"Well, he does have a lot of work. Maybe it really is just stress," Hermione offered weakly.

"You know that's not it. We've known him too long to believe his lies," Ron said, though he wished they _could_ just trust that Harry was overworked.

The pair stared at the dormitory staircase in silence for a moment before Ron awkwardly broke the silence. "Will you help me with that potions essay? I don't know where to begin."

Hermione blinked and looked at the staircase again before nodding her head slowly. They sat down at the table and Hermione pulled out her potions notes. She started writing down a few sentences for Ron to use, every now and then looking at the staircase, as though trying to see through the stone and read Harry's mind. Something wasn't right. He never used to worry about the war….

AN: Well, there's the chapter. Now tell me, what did you think? Good/Bad/Iffy? What did you think of the format of the chapter? It's a little different than the others have been, could you follow it all right?

Now time to whine about numbers. I realize that it was a long wait between chapters, but still, I think I deserve more than three reviews  (Though I very much appreciate **XxRoseDawsonxX, Ginny278, **and **dellacouer** for their reviews!) Anyways, this story is one the favorites list of 17 people and the alert list of 41. Not to mention it's home on 7 c2s. So, I'd really appreciate more reviews! Not only do they make me happy, but they do motivate me. Also, I wouldn't mind some suggestions, or more importantly, any burning questions you have thus far, that way, they could be answered!

Please and Thank you (for reviewing!)

K


	8. Chapter 8

"It should be in the first room on your left... you know what you're looking for," Remus muttered as the group huddled in a patch of trees looking at a large forbidding house. Harry nodded solemnly. "And when you find it, get out of here... the anti-apparation ward was marked with the ribbon, don't forget," Remus continued, looking at Harry intently.

"Remus, we've gone over the plan a million times already. I think they know what they're doing. Let's just get it over with," Tonks said, a smile playing on her thin face.

"Fine... Tonks, you and I will go out first. When we give the all-clear, you three get in the house, find it, and get out," Remus said.

The trio nodded and pulled their wands out, ready to run in either direction. Remus and Tonks stepped out of the trees and looked around them. Neither one looked nervous, but they were clearly on alert.

Tonks turned back toward the woods and scratched her nose. Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at each other briefly before walking carefully into the open. Once they were a few feet out of the trees, they ran as fast as they could toward the house. They ducked into the dark house and after a few minutes of desperate searching, Harry found what he was looking for. He grabbed the horcrux. "I've got it," he whispered to his friends who were searching the room for the horcrux. Without hesitating, they began to move towards the door. Harry carefully hid the horcrux in his robes and they tried to move as casually as possible.

Ron was in the front and opened the door. Hermione gasped as she saw Remus and Tonks standing back-to-back fighting off half of a dozen Death Eaters. Remus glanced toward the house and looked horrified at the sight of the three frozen teenagers.

"Harry! Run, we'll hold them off."

Harry opened his mouth to yell in protest, but Ron and Hermione, who had been jerked into action, grabbed his arms and drug him into the small forest.

"Remus!!" Harry yelled over his shoulder, trying to break free of his friends' holds.

"Harry! We have to _move_," Hermione urged desperately as she heard the shouts of the battle looming closer.

"No!" Harry shouted, wrenching himself free of his friends at last. He heard Ron shouting after him, but took no notice. He wasn't going to abandon everyone and let them fight his battle. He was only twenty feet from the fight when he heard Hermione scream... in terror.

Harry spun around. He had to save Hermione... He shouldn't have left her to begin with. But no sooner had he turned around than he felt a searing pain in the small of his back. He collapsed to the ground, grimacing in pain.

"Ron," Harry cried through gritted teeth. He felt his mind get fuzzy. He bit his lip hard. The pain brought him back to his senses, but not for long. The black fog would not be kept at bay and Harry felt himself sink into the ground as he lost consciousness.

"Harry!"

Harry gasped and sat up. He felt thick covers fall off of his bare chest and he saw blurry figures standing above him.

"Are you all right, mate?"

Harry reached for his glasses on his bedside table, but someone beat him to it and handed them to him. Harry put them on and blinked at the two boys standing by him.

"What was that?" Neville asked.

"Where am I?" Harry demanded. "Is Remus okay?"

"What, yeah he's fine," Ron said, wrinkling his brow. "Harry, what's the matter?"

"And Hermione, she's okay?" Harry persisted.

"Harry... you're scaring us," Neville said nervously.

"Maybe you should go home for another week or so..." Ron suggested.

"What?! Why would I do that? No. I think I'll send a letter..." Harry muttered, thinking to himself.

"To who?" Ron prompted.

"To someone who will have some advice for me."

"Your parents?" Neville guessed.

Harry gasped again. His parents... they were alive. He had been dreaming...

"Pet?"

"Do you want me to get her?" Ron offered.

"No, no... that's okay," Harry said.

"So, what happened?" Ron asked.

"I had a dream... it was just a nightmare. Don't worry about it."

"You were shouting, though..."

"Who was I yelling for?"

"Me... and Hermione. Are you sure you're okay, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded his head. "Go back to bed." The boys looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Harry rolled over in his bed. The dream had felt so real. The pain in his back had hurt. He reached back and felt where he thought he had been hit. His skin was smooth. How could something that felt so real all be a dream. He had had dreams that felt real before, but they _had_ been real. But this one couldn't have. He was at Hogwarts, not gallivanting across the country looking for horcruxes (though he thought he should be).

--

"Morning," Pet said, stifling a yawn.

"Good morning," a blond girl replied.

"Hey, don't look now, but he's looking at you," a girl with brown hair said, trying to hide a smile.

"Who? Pet asked unconcernedly as she helped herself to some orange juice.

"Troy," the girl with brown hair said, giggling.

"Really?" Pet demanded, her interest peaked. She spun around and locked eyes with a cute Hufflepuff boy. She smiled and turned around. "I do believe he is the cutest boy in this school..." Pet said as she tried buttering her toast with a clean knife.

"Hey, Amanda, tell her what you heard he said," the brown haired girl prompted.

"Tell me," Pet demanded.

"I heard he likes you and wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend," Amanda said, beaming with happiness.

Pet rolled her eyes. "Yeah right," she said dismissively, though her friends shared a significant look as a blush crept onto Pet's cheeks.

"Hey, maybe he'll come see you play today at the match," Amanda said giggling.

"Of course he will," Pet said.

"Oh! A bit cocky, are we?" the brown haired girl asked.

"No, Candice... he's _on the team_," Pet said. "The Slytherin captain's mum took sick and he had to go home and be with her for a spell, so they postponed the Slytherin match until spring. But if you ask me, he had to get home to meet up with Voldie-wart."

Amanda and Candice each flinched, but otherwise ignored the name.

"So you get to be up close and personal with him today. Are you nervous?" Candice asked.

"Especially since it's your first match," Amanda added.

"Gee, you guys are just great at easing a girl's nerves," Pet said sarcastically.

"You're nervous?" the girls asked together.

"Well... no, but if I were, you guys would be horrible at cheering me up."

The three girls laughed and enjoyed a little bit of breakfast, once Pet learned that she forgot to put the jam on her toast.

Pet looked up and saw the rest of the team standing up to go to the changing rooms. She exchanged a quick goodbye with her friends before following the team out.

As soon as they got into the hallway, Katie Bell turned to angrily face her. "Where in Merlin is your brother?"

"And mine," Ginny added.

Pet looked at the four students standing in the entrance way. "They'll come. They wouldn't miss the match for anything," she said confidently.

"Come on, guys," Katie said, walking towards the door. The team followed her and Pet stayed a few paces behind.

Ginny fell back and smiled at Pet. "You nervous?" she asked.

"Nah. I've been playing with brooms for forever. So there are a few people watching me this time... big deal."

Ginny bit her tongue and smiled at Harry's little sister. "They'll come. Harry's yet to let us down," Ginny said reassuringly.

"I know," Pet said. Ginny rolled her eyes when the young girl wasn't looking and let the silence hang between them.

In the locker room, the team was moving restlessly. Ron and Harry were still not there and they were supposed to be on the field in two minutes.

"Where are they?" Katie demanded the silent team.

"Do you want me to go find them?" Pet offered.

"No. We'll just have to play short a seeker and a keeper. No sense in being short a beater as well. Okay... Just kidding, that's not going to work." Katie sat down with her head in her hands and thought for a couple of seconds before standing in front of everybody again. "Here's what we're going to do. Ginny, you've played seeker before, right?"

"Not as good as-"

"Doesn't matter. He's not here, so you're going to take his place and we'll be down a chaser. We'll manage. As for the no keeper, well, Demelza and I will have to be particularly good, now won't we?" she asked kindly to the small, pale girl on the bench. The girl nodded her head and gave a brave smile. "Okay, no reason to keep waiting. They aren't coming. Let's go," Katie said, trying (though failing) to sound confident.

The five players stepped onto the team, Katie leading the small group. She met a tall boy in the center of the field.

"Your back?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I missed a lot of school last year and my parents wanted me to get the most out of school because of life," Katie said offhandedly.

"Captains... err... where's the Gryfindor captain?" Madam Hooch asked, noticing Harry's absence.

Pet spun around when she heard pounding feet on the field.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Ron yelled. Harry smiled at Katie as he took her place.

"Where were you?" she hissed as he passed her.

"Overslept?" Harry offered with a weak smile.

"You forgot," Katie accused. She let out a disgusted sigh. "Just go shake hands. I'll yell at you later." Harry laughed nervously.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch cried. Harry and the tall boy shook hands.

"Mount your brooms! On my whistle! Three... Two... One!" There was a shrill blast of the whistle and thirteen players kicked off to the air. Harry was frozen on the ground. He had mounted his broom but hadn't kicked off.

"Would all the players kindly get into the air?" Madam Hooch called.

Harry swallowed nervously. _They need me up there... you have no reason to be afraid. You fell a hundred feet in third year!_ Harry thought about that for half a second. _Or did I? Was that part of the dream?_ Harry was lost in his thoughts, both of his feet planted firmly on the ground. Madam Hooch walked over to Harry and jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Is there a problem Potter? Would you like to call your team back down? Or maybe you should go sit down?" Harry looked up sharply at the last suggestion. She was looking at him kindly, almost knowingly. "It's okay if you don't want to fly today, but I suggest you either pull in your substitute or you readjust your players... and please do so quickly." Madam Hooch said briskly, but not unkindly.

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat only to feel his heart jump into his throat. _I can do this..._ he told himself.

He weakly kicked off of the ground, rising seven feet into the air. That was plenty high, he reasoned with himself. Madam Hooch released the balls and swooped into the air herself. She blew another whistle and all of the players were suddenly in motion. Except for Harry who was now frozen seven feet in the air. His teammates kept shooting him worried glances, but Harry was ignoring them. His goal was to keep the broom as steady as possible.

"Harry! What's your problem?" Pet cried as she dove to knock a bludger away from him.

"N-Nothing!" he yelled back. "Just looking for the Snitch."

Katie watched, horrified, as the Hufflepuff seeker flattened against his broom and streaked towards a gold glint only ten feet from Harry. She bit her lip as Harry remained focused on his broom handle. Pet hit a bludger, aiming for the Snitch. Harry didn't even flinch as the black ball whistled past him. But she had succeeded, the Snitch was again missing.

"Madam Hooch!" Katie yelled. "Time out!"

"Only the captains can call a time out," the woman responded. Katie looked at her teammates and held up a finger. Ginny and Demelza continued passing the quaffle back and forth but didn't try to score. Katie swooped next to Harry.

"Call a timeout," she demanded.

"Harry!" she yelled when he didn't respond. Harry jerked, and gasped as his broom moved slightly. He looked at her.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Call a timeout," she said forcefully.

Harry nodded his head and motioned to Madam Hooch.

"What are you playing at?" Katie yelled the second her feet touched the ground. "Potter, you better have one hell of an explanation!" She waited for an answer, but Harry just stared at the ground. "Look, Potter, we can't play this game like this anymore! If you can't play, then take yourself out of the bloody game, but don't make us suffer through you botching it for us! Either get the hell out of here, or get some height and start playing! Do you realize that if your sister didn't have brilliant aim the game would be over... or you'd be in the hospital wing again?" Harry remained silent and the rest of the team waited awkwardly for the timeout to end.

Katie swore loudly, causing Madam Hooch to give her a sharp look. "Harry! Are you even listening to me?! What's it going to be? Are you going to play or leave? Take your pick."

Harry slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.

"I can play," he whispered.

"You sure about that?" Katie asked coldly. "Because I don't think you can. Hit the showers Potter. Ginny, you're playing seeker."

"I said I would play!" Harry shouted.

"Potter! Don't argue with me!" Katie yelled.

"I'm the captain!" Harry replied, his face turning red.

"Katie..." Ron said quietly.

"What? Are you going to defend him?" she demanded. She now had a bit of a wild look to her eye.

"Just let him play," he said quietly.

Pet walked up to Harry. "Look, you have to pull yourself together, okay? Do it for the team... this is my first game and I want to play with my brother, do it for me," she said in his ear. Harry turned to look at her. "Take a deep breath and pull yourself together." Harry closed his eyes and did as he was told.

"Are you about ready?" Madam Hooch asked the Gryfindor team.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, worry etched on his face.

Harry nodded his head. "Really," he added, looking at Katie. She glared at him, clearly doubting him, but nodded to Madam Hooch anyway.

"Yeah, we're ready," Harry said.

"Teams, mount your brooms!"

This time, fourteen players soared into the air, though Harry a little more slowly than everyone else. He carefully pulled one hand off of his broom handle and watched it shake and quiver.

"Watch for the Snitch!" Katie roared from across the pitch.

Harry jerked and began scanning the field for the Snitch. He knew he should be moving, but there was no way he was going to go anywhere when he was in the air. Harry saw a bludger zooming at him, but he couldn't move. His eyes watched as it came closer and closer and closer. The trance was broken, though, when a second bludger hit it off course.

Harry's eyes traced the path of the second bludger and smiled at his sister. It was a good thing she was brilliant at Quidditch. And that's when he saw it. Fluttering a mere two feet from Pet's foot was the Golden Snitch. Harry wanted to lean forward and urge his broom ever faster to get it, but he couldn't. It was as though his body was in a full body bind.

"Potter!" Katie screamed at him. "Get that or I _will_ take your post away!"

Harry's mind kicked into gear and he slowly leaned forward, inching along, closer and closer to the Snitch. Harry kept looking at the ground, which seemed to be getting further and further away, though he knew it wasn't.

Luckily for him, Harry's hesitancy seemed to confuse the other seeker. The boy kept looking at the ground for the Snitch, expecting Harry to go into one of his famous dives. But of course that didn't happen. Harry waited until he was right next to the Snitch (which also seemed confused by Harry's slowness). He reached out and plucked it from the air. There was a minute or two of stunned silence while Harry began to inch his way to the ground. And then the cheers began. Harry couldn't help but smile with the rest of the team. Even Katie was in high spirits now. She touched the ground way before Harry and waited for him.

"You are so lucky!! Who would have guessed that your stupidity would EVER pay back?"

"Gee thanks, Katie..." Harry said, still shaking a little from his adventure in the air. Katie shook her head and walked into the changing rooms still smiling. The rest of the team soon followed her, that is everyone except Harry and Pet.

"Are you okay, bro?" she asked. "You look a little pale..."

"I'm fine... Why does everyone ask if I'm all right?"

"Harry... if something's bothering you, you know you can tell me and I'd never tell a soul, right? I miss the way we used to be," she said quietly.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said. He looked around, casting for a subject to switch to. He smiled when he saw a kid with dirty blond hair and blue eyes smile sheepishly at him. "And I think your friend wants to talk to you... alone."

"Oh no..." Pet moaned, her face turning red. "My hair's a mess!" she cried despairingly as she rushed to the changing rooms. Harry laughed and followed her in.

As soon as he stepped into the changing rooms, though, he was pulled aside and pushed onto a bench.

"We are going to sit here until you start telling us what the bloody hell is wrong with you," Ron said. Hermione was standing half of a step behind him.

"Harry, what happened out there?" she asked, concerned.

"It was nothing," Harry said, brushing it off.

"It was not nothing! Did it have anything to do with your nightmare last night?" Ron asked.

Hermione gave a slight gasp. "Nightmare?" she asked. "Harry! What is it now! You're supposed to be past those. The Occlumency was supposed to get rid of them."

"Oh, and he was yelling our names," Ron added while looking at Harry.

"So what? I had a dream. Everyone has dreams at some point!"

"This was more than a dream, and you know it! Why won't you tell us anything?! Is it because you still think that this is all some stupid dream? Is it because you think you're in a coma in the real world? Or maybe, it's because you aren't who you say you are!"

"Ron!" Hermione protested.

"No, Hermione. I have a point, you just don't want to admit it. He's not acting like himself and these days, you have to be careful. Look me straight in the eye and tell me you trust the person in front of us one hundred percent."

Hermione looked at Harry with tears in her eyes and hung her head.

Ron muttered something that sounded like "I thought not" and stormed out of the changing rooms. Harry hung his head, feeling like rubbish, especially so when Hermione rushed out after Ron.


	9. Chapter 9

The normally bustling common room was eerily quiet save for the crackling of the fire and the scratching of Hermione's quill on the piece of parchment in front of her. Ron flipped through Quidditch Through the Ages, though he wasn't really reading any of the words on the page. Every few seconds, he would glance up and look at the moody teenager who was sitting by the window and staring at the grounds, clearly lost in thought. There was a pause in the scratching of the quill as Hermione looked at Harry as well. Ron and Hermione's eyes met, the looks of hopelessness matching. Neither one knew what to do to help Harry, but both wanted to help him more than anything. Hermione broke eye contact first and reread what she had just written. She let out a frustrated sigh and scratched out her introduction paragraph, making it the fifth scratched out paragraph on the page. Harry turned around and faced the common room. Ron quickly lost his nose in his book again. Without a word, Harry stood up and left the room.

Once the portrait door swung shut, Ron shut his book and turned to Hermione. "He's probably off to research for his precious war effort again," he said monotonously.

Hermione sighed resignedly, put her quill down, and pursed her lips before meeting Ron's gaze. "Don't say that," she said quietly.

"Why not, it's probably bloody well true, you know as well as I do that he's obsessed with the stupid war… if you want to even call it that. We're not even fighting anyone! All we've got is Dumbledore's word that _he_'s coming back, that he may even be out there now, that he was never gone to begin with…. "

"That seems to be enough for the Death Eaters… they're back you know. They've started killing Muggles again. It was in the paper a while back," Hermione said quietly.

"Okay, let's say for a minute that Dumbledore's right. That he-who-must-not-be-named is back. That he's going to pick up right where he left off when he disappeared when he tried to kill Harry," Ron began calmly. "What would be his first move?"

"To kill Harry because Harry stopped him before. He's got to get rid of anyone's doubts that he can be beaten," Hermione said easily.

"Has anyone ever tried to kill Harry?" Ron asked, rising an eyebrow.

Hermione chewed the tip of her quill as she thought back on their last six years of friendship. "Well… in first year, there was the time when the professors sent everyone to their dormitories. Maybe someone had been trying to get at Harry then?"

"Wasn't that because of a troll, though?" Ron challenged.

"You don't honestly think a troll would break into Hogwarts for pleasure, do you… and succeed?" Hermione asked in a patronizing tone.

"All right, a onetime thing. That doesn't mean anything."

"But what about in second year when your sister used that possessed diary and was kidnapped?" Hermione pressed.

Ron bit his lip as he was forcibly reminded of the single most traumatic experience of his life. He had been so close to losing his sister… had Dumbledore not found her… he shuddered to think what would have happened.

"What if that had been a trap for Harry?" she posed.

"What dolt would use an eleven year old girl as bait to kidnap a twelve year old boy?" Ron laughed. "Besides, Harry didn't even talk to Ginny in second year. I'm not sure he even knew her name. And what about third year. Nothing happened third year," Ron said determinedly.

"No," Hermione allowed. "But fourth year, when Harry competed in the triwizard tournament. What about when Cedric died. How did he die? Maybe someone was trying to kill Harry and missed?"

"Cedric died in an accident in the maze. I'm sure if anything sinister had happened, Dumbledore would have told us. And if not Dumbledore, Harry would have told us if you-know-who had been in the maze." Ron reasoned. "And when did you start sounding like me with all these crazy ideas and make _me_ be the reasonable one?"

"All I'm saying is that maybe Harry's got a point and we should start looking into helping the war effort. After all, next year it'll be our problem too."

"What war effort, Hermione? Dumbledore's the only one out there saying anything!" Ron yelled. "The _Prophet_ thinks he's off his rocker, and I don't see anyone stepping up to defend him either."

"Dumbledore's too good to be off his rocker. He must be telling the truth," Hermione said, unwilling to believe that the wizened wizard was losing his senses.

"I still don't trust that bloke walking around as Harry. Harry would have flown a heck of a lot better than that bloke did the other day."

"Ron! He just fell 50 feet!"

"Well what's with the sudden he-who-must-not-be-named obsession then? Wouldn't you think he'd just be glad to be alive and live a nice safe life?"

"He said he learned stuff from his dream," Hermione defended.

"And when exactly did you become a defender of divination. Last I knew you walked out on divination claiming it to be a load of dung. And if he remembers everything like he says he does , shouldn't he realize his dream was just a dream and that it has nothing to do with the real world?"

"I just can't bring myself to not trust him. He's Harry for crying out loud!"

"Well, maybe we should reconsider that. He's not the Harry we know."

"And why on earth would anyone want to impersonate Harry?" Hermione asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Well, this Harry's been trying to be real chummy with Dumbledore and talk about the 'war' effort," Ron began. "Maybe Harry was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and some Death Eaters decided to use Harry to get to Dumbledore to find out what he knows."

"I thought you thought Dumbledore was off his rocker for believing you-know-who is back," Hermione challenged.

"I'm just saying!" Ron yelled.

"And I'm just saying-" Hermione said, interrupting Ron. "-that we ought to try and help Harry. He's confused now. He thinks this war-effort thing is the most important thing in the world, but no one's helping him. No one is supporting him. Maybe what he needs right now are a couple of friends." Hermione held up her hand when Ron opened his mouth to speak. "We don't have to believe what he believes, but we need to be his friends like we always have been: through the scar hurting, through the unfair detentions from Snape, through the Triwizard tournament, through it all. And maybe, he doesn't remember everything. Maybe he's still confused from his dream, and if that's the case, then he needs his friends, us, to help him remember what the real world is like, remind him that he doesn't need to fight. That there's really nothing to even fight."

"What if we got some veritaseum and slipped it into his pumpkin juice, just to check," Ron said, still doubtful.

"Ron," Hermione began in a warning tone.

Ron picked up his book again. "Forget I said anything. We'll try it your way… though you don't have to share a room with the bloke. Do you have any idea how creepy it is to change in front of a bloke that you feel like is a complete stranger to you?"

"He's your best mate… he's just a little confused about reality," Hermione said calmly.

"Whatever," Ron said, not entirely confident in Hermione's statement. Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Ron clearly ended the conversation by picking up his book again and sticking his nose in it. The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched as she recognized her own method of getting people to leave her alone.

Harry watched the stones of the floor pass by as his feet moved wherever they pleased. He didn't know where he was going, but that didn't really bother him. What bothered him was he didn't know where he was. He knew he was at Hogwarts… but was it real? Could he dare to let himself believe that his parents were alive, that people weren't dying every day? He thought back to his dream, to the losses he had felt in his dream that were suddenly gone: his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, innocence, happiness, Hedwig, friends, the chance at a normal life. Could he just accept the lack of these losses? What was the worst that could happen if he didn't? He would lose them all over again. He'd push them away until they were as good as gone. And if he did? He would make everything worse for everyone and be the reason Voldemort wins and everyone lives in oppression under him. Harry chewed his lip and thought. The idea of living like a normal 17 year old wizard was highly appealing. His parents were more than willing to keep him in the dark regarding the war; he could easily go with it. But then he would be responsible for the so many innocent deaths he knew either had happened or would happen. After all, wasn't knowing something was going to happen and letting it happen just as bad as causing it to happen in the first place? Harry looked up from his feet and realized he was standing just inside the doors to the grounds. He looked at the bright blue sky and decided to try the flying thing again. He felt the wonderful freedom flying always offered him calling to him. As he felt this familiar longing, the longing to have the wind blowing his cares away for a few exciting moments of Quidditch, Harry decided that it really didn't matter if he had just woken up from a dream or if he was in the middle of a dream. The risks were too high, there were too many consequences if he chose to ignore the war. He would have to fight. He would appeal to Dumbledore and his parents one more time. And if they didn't agree to let him fight, he would do it by himself.

Harry began to draw up a speech to present to Dumbledore and his parents to convince them that he needed to be a part of the war effort. Just as he was finishing, he reached the broom cupboard. He opened it and pulled out his Firebolt. His recent decision that it really didn't matter if he actually had fallen in a Quidditch game or shot with a curse left his hands steady. His mind felt as at ease as it could be during the war. He had much bigger concerns than his fear of flying. He thought back to his crash on Hagrid's flying motorcycle in the other possible reality... Sirius' motorcycle. That hadn't shaken him up in the least; a few laps around the Quidditch pitch should hardly bother him. Harry mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground. A certain sense of freedom flooded his body as he rose higher and higher. He didn't feel bound by his fears. He didn't feel bound by his inability to determine which of his worlds was the real one. It didn't matter. Wherever he was, whatever state of mind he was in, there was a war going on against the dark side and he had to help, he was a key component. Whether he was awake or dreaming, he was going to fight. Harry never thought that an acceptance of ignorance could feel so wonderful, but it mixed with the wind whipping in his unruly hair put a smile on his face, a smile he hadn't felt since he had "woken up."

Pet walked onto the pitch with her broom over her shoulder. She couldn't stand one more minute of studying and had decided to fly for a bit to relax her mind. She saw someone already flying above the pitch and was about to turn around, bitter for someone choosing to fly when she wanted to fly, when she recognized the black haired, bespectacled boy on a shiny new broom. "Harry," she whispered, a grin quickly taking over her face. She quickly rushed to the ball storage and pulled out a Quaffel. Not even bothering to get back to the pitch, Pet hopped on her broom and kicked off the ground. She got close enough to her brother to throw the ball to him, but far enough away that he clearly had yet to recognize her presence. "Think fast," she yelled at him as she threw the ball in his direction. Harry instinctively pulled out his wand and shot a disarming spell. Pet's jaw dropped as her wand that had been safely stowed in her pocket went flying through the air. Harry and Pet reacted at about the same time to the falling objects.

Harry mentally berated himself for reacting the way he had. _Even if this was the world where I'm in the war, Lupin would not have appreciated me using the disarming spell over something else_, he told himself as he went into a dive to catch the Quaffel. He grabbed the ball out of the air and pulled up and watched as his sister dove for her wand. She was clearly not a diver like he was. She slowed her descent long before she reached the ground and had to dismount her broom in order to pick up her wand. She quickly kicked off again and regained her original height. Harry gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"I don't know, I might I have a heart-attack. You're flying, you're speaking to me, AND you're almost smiling... what happened?" Pet asked as Harry tossed the Quaffel to her.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Harry said with a straight face. Pet stared at him with a slack jaw, unsure or unable to react. "Kidding!" Harry said, lifting his hands off his broom and holding them in a defensive position.

"A joke? AND your hands are off your broom?? I don't know if I can handle this!" Pet laughed. The siblings passed the ball back and forth a few times in silence before Pet broke it hesitantly: "So what actually happened? Why the sudden change from the moody boy that's been hanging around?"

"I have not been moody!" he cried.

Pet raised her eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You do realize that everyone has noticed that you're different than you used to be? And not just you ridiculous moodiness. You're bloody well afraid of flying!" Pet cried exasperatedly.

"Who says I'm afraid of flying?" Harry said indignantly.

"Umm... anyone that watched the last match?" Pet asked sarcastically as she did a quick imitation of his hesitant motions and slow flying from the last match.

"Except I'm flying now! If I was scared of flying, would I be here right now?" Harry challenged.

"Which brings me back to my original question. What changed? I still wouldn't say you're yourself, but you're certainly different than the Harry that woke up from the coma." Pet's smile slid off her face as his eyes darkened.

Harry bit the corner of his lip before opening his mouth. "Promise not to tell?" he asked, deciding he could trust her. Pet nodded her head. "I finally decided that it doesn't matter if I just came out of a dream or if I just fell into a dream. I have to stop Voldemort. The consequences if I decide wrong are way too much."

"Oh." Pet didn't know what else to say.

Harry watched as disappointment filled her eyes and her face fell.

"You don't really remember anything, do you?" Pet asked, almost not wanting to know the answer. Harry merely shook his head in response. Pet looked even more disappointed and hung her head a little. "I was afraid of that," she whispered. She hadn't meant for Harry to hear, but he had.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to everyone, but I'm not sure I even have memories to regain, and I didn't want to waste anymore time hanging around... home. With... Mum... being so fragile."

"Waste time?! If I remember correctly, in your dream Mum and Dad weren't even alive! I would think you'd want to spend as much time as you can with them!"

"I do... and the time with them was incredible... but Voldemort's out there. And if I let him regain power, then days with them may be limited, and they certainly won't be happy days."

"Harry, you don't have to fight this war! Mum and Dad are working with Dumbledore to stop it before it starts, and they don't want you fighting."

Harry's ears perked a little at this tidbit of news. "Mum and Dad are working with Dumbledore?" he questioned.

Harry knew from the look in Pet's eyes that she regretted saying that. "...yes," she finally answered.

"What are they doing? Who else is working with them? How long has this been going on? What do they know? How do you know this?" Harry quickly questioned.

"First of all... I know this thanks to Mum and Dad slipping up a few times and forgetting I was within hearing distance. And I don't really know anything beyond the fact that there's a group of them that meets sometimes about the war, but Mum or Dad always stayed home with us."

"The Order," Harry said happily.

"The Order?" Pet asked.

"Yeah... well, at least in my... dream... it was a group of people that were resisting Voldemort. They fought him during his first rise to power, and they regrouped and did their best to fight him during his second rise to power... but in the end, they just did what they could to help me reach the point where I could defeat him."

"Why did you have to defeat him?"

"It has something to do with our destiny. I don't totally understand it myself, but the prophecy says that we have to fight each other." Harry chewed on his lip for a minute before continuing. "Pet, would you be willing to help me?"

"In what way?" she asked warily.

"Tell me stories. Give me some memories so that I can continue pretending to have all of my memory back. And if it comes to it and you'd be willing, would you help me convince Mum and Dad to let me help with the fight? Would you tell me what you know about what they've been up to? But you have to promise not to tell anyone anything, at all."

Harry and Pet looked at each other for a minute, forgetting that they had been passing the ball back and forth. Harry's eyes were pleading. If he had any chance of helping with the war effort, he had to make them believe he was 100% back to himself, and in the end, he'd need all the help he could get. In his dream he had needed Ron and Hermione, but he might not have them this time around. Pet's eyes held a lot of conflict. She wanted to help her brother, she really did. But she didn't want him fighting in this war, it was too dangerous. She didn't want to lose him. Nor did she particularly like the idea of allowing him to continue denying the fact that he had just woke up from a dream. She wanted him to be back to normal, not because he was acting off of stories she told him, but because he really did remember everything and because he accepted that he was in the real world now.

Pet opened and closed her mouth a few times, increasing the tension in the air before she quietly whispered into the air. "Okay." At first she wasn't sure Harry heard her since he didn't react at all. She half-considered changing her mind, but before she could, a wide grin spread across Harry's face and his eyes lit up.

"Thanks."

Pet looked at her brother and decided that she would do anything she could to help him. He seemed much happier, more relaxed than he had ever been since he woke up and she would do anything she could to keep him that way. Pet and Harry went back to tossing the Quaffel between them, Pet relating whatever stories popped into her mind until it became too dark for them to see.

AN: All right, sorry for the long wait guys, but there was school and then the holidays and all that such. This actually doesn't cover everything I was going to include in chapter 9, but it was getting long and I decided this worked… and it gives me somewhere to start with chapter 10. Again, I apologize for the long wait, and any issues there are with continuity in my story and if I've lost the voices of the characters from Rowling's books. I'm currently re-reading DH so that I can pick up on some stuff again. As I read, I plan on picking a point in the story where I break off from the main story line and jump into my own because this obviously can't happen after the end of DH. Haha. I will let you guys know when I find that point.

Thanks for all your patience and I hope it was worth the wait for you.


End file.
